In This World For You
by SnapesFavorite
Summary: The night Lily and James are killed, Dumbledore asks for Severus's promise to give up his own destiny in order to protect Harry's life. Severus agrees, but when he meets his husband from the future, he's forced to break his word. HPSS Slash.
1. Prologue

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**Disclaimer:  
**All characters belong to Jo, I just love playing with them.

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Chapter 1  
**Prologue**

**1981 **

'Dead?'

The dark haired young man in front of Albus Dumbledore seemed to sway on his feet for a split second and his hands gripped the desk between them to steady himself, knuckles white.

'They're dead?' he repeated and all colour was draining from his already unhealthily pale face. He looked at the Headmaster as though searching for confirmation that the words weren't true; all the while knowing this confirmation would never come.

'I was too late,' he said tonelessly. 'I have failed.'

Albus Dumbledore put a hand over his tired face and rubbed his eyes.

'The baby survived, Severus,' he said at last. 'He is alive.'

'Alive?' Severus echoed disbelievingly. 'Ha … Harry is alive?'

Dumbledore nodded. 'Yes. _How _and_ why_ I can only imagine, but he _is_ alive.'

The pale young wizard seemed to snap out of a reverie. 'Where is he? Albus … _WHERE IS HE?_ We need to …'

'Hagrid is getting him as we speak. As a matter of fact I need to leave now to …'

'I'm coming with you,' Severus interrupted, but the Headmaster put up a stopping hand. 'No, Severus. You've done enough. I want you to stay at Hogwarts. Hagrid, Minerva and I will take care of the child.'

All Severus could do was watch as the Headmaster strode across the office and stepped in front of the large fireplace to his right. 'What will you do with him?' he asked quietly.

'He will be left in the care of Lily's relatives.'

'Muggles,' Severus spat indignantly. 'You're leaving him with _muggles_?'

'Surely you don't want to raise the boy yourself, do you Severus?' Dumbledore asked calmly.

The young man blushed. 'Of course I don't,' he huffed.

'I didn't think you would. Incidentally, I feel this is perfect time for you to renew the promise you gave to me two days ago.'

Severus froze.

'Promise me that you will not let your own prophecy interfere with the one of the child.'

'But if this is my destiny, then it is Harry's as well!' Severus argued heatedly and for the first time Albus Dumbledore appreciated just how young the wizard in front of him still was. He suddenly felt very tired.

'I understand, my dear. And if that's truly the case, then destiny will find a way through, don't you think? However, with the way things stand now, I must ask you to do everything in your power to prevent that from happening.'

'Listen, Severus,' Albus added wearily when the other wizard didn't answer. 'If I didn't believe this was the best for everyone involved, I would never ask this of you. I would never ask this of Harry.'

He stepped into the fire place and looked at the young wizard expectantly. 'Do I have your word?'

Severus tried to speak, but found his throat too tight for words.

'Sibyll might be wrong,' he managed to say at last.

'That might well be, Severus!' Albus was getting impatient. 'But if she's not, then Harry has far more important goals awaiting him than your happiness.'

He regretted the words as soon as they had left his mouth.

Severus' face turned into a stony mask.

'Very well, Headmaster,' he nodded politely. 'You have my word.'

**_To be continued_**


	2. Severus's Secretary

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**Disclaimer:  
**All characters belong to Jo, I just love playing with them.  
I confess, this chapter contains a few lines copied directly from "Prisoner of Azkaban" … but please don't sue me ;-).

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Chapter 2  
**"Severus's Secretary"**

**1993**

'Lumos,' Severus ordered unenthusiastically as he stepped through the portrait hole.

As darkness faded, the familiar sight of his private chambers at Hogwarts was revealed to the Potions Teacher. Everything looked as it had when he had left these dungeons at the end of last term. The side to his right was covered with ceiling-high shelves that looked as though they were about to collapse underneath the weight of the many books that occupied them. To his left were two doors that led to his bath- and bedroom as well as a large desk that stood in between them, making it look a bit like a reception desk. Not that Severus needed one, mind, for the only two people who would occasionally lose their way into his chambers were Albus Dumbledore and Draco Malfoy.

The desk was facing the large fireplace in the middle of the room. A rather comfortable looking couch covered in dark green velvet stood in front of it, with an armchair on either side. Behind the fireplace, at the long end of the room, there was a third door that led to his private potions chamber and supply room. There were no windows anywhere since the Slytherin quarters were completely underwater and Severus had not been keen on a constant reminder that he was housing side by side with merpeople, thank you very much. He had declined the offer of magical windows, too. Severus treasured the feeling of seclusion these dungeons gave him. It fitted, did it not?

With a heavy sigh Severus dropped his few belongings - a stack of books, a worn-out leather bag and a small box filled with fairy hair - carelessly on the floor (an attentive house-elf would take care of them in no time, no doubt).

'Here we go again. Another year at Hogwarts, oh joy.'

His gaze fell on the coffee table by the couch. A bottle of the finest Firewhisky and a glass stood on a little black tray, a card propped in between. Severus smirked. He did not need to read the note to know what it said. _"Welcome back, Severus. A.D."_

_Same thing every year._

Not that he complained.

With a lazy flick of his wand Severus ordered the bottle to fill him a glass and sat down in one of the armchairs and looked around once more. His gaze came to rest on his large mahogany desk. The table looked uncharacteristically clean and uncluttered, but Severus knew that that was bound to change in less than 48 hours. After all the students were already on their way. _He_ was already on his way.

_'That is if he hasn't inflated the conductor,'_ Severus thought with a grin and raised his glass in silent salute. The boy _did_ have style. Sometimes.

Bitterness crept up inside of him and Severus quickly took a large swig of the Firewhisky in an attempt to drown the all too familiar emotion. Relaxing slightly, he leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and savored the feeling of the hot liquid burning its way down his throat.

_'I'm sorry, Mr. Riddle, but Professor Snape is currently not in the office. Can I take a message?'_

Severus' eyes snapped open.

A boy was sitting behind his desk. His right hand was curled into a fist that he held in front of his ear, clearly in an imitation of the apparatus muggles called a "telephone". In his left hand he held a quill, busily doodling on the pad in front of him.

_'So your number is 4-7-2-3-2-6-9. Alright. And you are calling about …? The next Death Eater meeting, I see."_

Severus blinked.

_'Okay, Mr. Riddle,' _the boy said sweetly after pretending to listen to his hand for a few seconds. '_I will tell Professor Snape you called as soon as he's back from getting smashed … I mean, his dinner'. _

He looked up and winked at Severus who drew a sharp breath. He knew that messy black hair. He knew those painfully green eyes. He knew the scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. He knew it all by heart.

Harry Potter.

Only it wasn't.

Or was it?

_WHAT ON EARTH?_

Severus' mind was racing. He had kept his promise to Dumbledore, had he not?

Severus Snape had been a good boy. He had spent the last two years making Harry Potter's life miserable. _A very good boy._ He had spent the last two years tormenting The Boy Who Lived whenever he had the chance. _A very good boy indeed._ Severus Snape had successfully squashed every possibility of even being remotely likeable in Harry's eyes.

Had he not?!

Severus stared with his mouth open. The boy who was grinning at him with mirth now was no doubt Harry Potter. He looked quite a bit older than someone who was about to start his third year at Hogwarts (Severus was pretty sure this Harry was of age already), his glasses were gone and so was the unhealthy scrawny look that Severus had become so accustomed to see on the boy … but it was Harry Potter, alright.

He continued to stare.

The boy who wasn't but was Harry now pretended to hang up the phone. Then he bent his head over the desk, his face screwed up in concentration.

_'Next-Death-Eater-Meeting-Tomorrow-Midnight'_ he wrote carefully, reading the words out loud at the same time. _'Must-plot-to-kill-dreaded-Potterboy-at-last-please-call-back-A.S.A.P.' _He looked up again and studied Severus with mild curiosity. _'You know,'_ said Harry solemnly after a moment, _'if you're not careful, I might be able to see the beginning of a smile forming on that __grumpy albeit very sexy face of yours.' _

Severus didn't dare to move. He didn't dare to breathe.

Harry leaned forward on his desk. _'By Merlin!' _he exclaimed. _'There it is! A smile! And … oh my God, what is that! He's laughing, ladies and gentlemen, he's laughing! Severus Snape is laugh…'_

A pillow came flying out of nowhere and collided with the side of Harry's head. He snickered.

Severus blinked.

…

And Harry was gone.

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'You fainted, Potter? Is Longbottom telling the truth? You actually fainted?'

Draco Malfoy looked ready to vomit with glee.

Harry Potter was thankful he was spared the necessity of a witty comeback, when he saw Professor Dumbledore stand up from his seat at the staff table. Within seconds everyone in the Great Hall stopped talking; even Malfoy resumed to staring at the still empty plate in front of him, albeit grudgingly.

'Welcome to another year at Hogwarts!'

The Headmaster launched into his yearly Beginning-of-term-speech and Harry absentmindedly let his eyes wander across the teachers sitting on either side of Dumbledore. They came to rest upon his Potions Teacher and it took Harry a few moments to realize that Snape was looking right back at him. His dark eyes seemed to bore themselves into Harrys', yet his expression was unfathomable. Harry blinked startled and a second later Severus Snape was looking elsewhere.

Harry wondered if the teacher already knew about what had happened to him on the train. If _Malfoy_ thought Harry fainting at the sight of Dementors was funny, then _Snape_ would surely never let him hear the end of it. Harry felt his heart sink at the prospect. He forced his attention back to Dumbledore's speech and clapped enthusiastically along with Ron and Hermione as Professor Lupin was introduced as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Maybe this year wouldn't be so bad after all …

'Look at Snape!' Ron suddenly hissed into his ear.

Harry looked up at their Potions Teacher once more. Like everyone else Harry was more than used to the constant display of utmost distaste on Snape's face, but the expression that was twisting the teachers' face now as he looked at Professor Lupin, was startling even to him. It was beyond anger: it was loathing. Harry knew that expression only too well; it was the look Snape wore every time he set eyes on Harry…

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**Still shaken by what had occurred in his private chambers less than two hours ago, but with his usual mask of composed arrogance firmly in place, Severus took his seat at the staff table and watched the students file into the Great Hall. He noted the absence of a certain raven haired third year student before he was able to stop himself and pretended to be utterly un-relieved when he saw said raven haired Third Year duck into the Hall moments later, together with that Granger girl. He liked his dramatic entrances, that pesky little Potter boy, didn't he? 

_Like father like son._

Severus barely managed to suppress a smile, when he noticed Draco taunting Harry as soon as the Gryffindor had seated himself at his table. He had no idea what his Godson was going on about this time, but (unsurprisingly) Harry didn't look too happy about it.

_What would Draco say if he knew …._

Albus Dumbledore's voice snapped Severus out of his reverie. He had to get a grip. This instant! He couldn't let Albus find out what had happened tonight, under no circumstances. And most importantly, he had to stop thinking along the lines of _What If_. There was no room for _What If_ in Severus Snape's life. _What If_ had stopped existing the moment he had given his word to the Headmaster.

That one blasted night, many years ago.

And yet he had had another vision tonight. After all the taunts, sneers, disgusted looks, cruel remarks and heaps of detentions he had tortured the boy with … Harry had appeared to him tonight; for the first time in two years. Sitting in his private chambers like it was the most normal thing in the world, joking, smiling, teasing, laughing … more vivid, more lucid than any vision of him Severus had ever experienced before. Was it possible that he _still_ hadn't managed to alter the future? Severus studied Harry's face sharply. The boy appeared lost in his thoughts as he stared blankly across the room. A perfect opportunity to quickly enter his mind and ...

After all he needed to know, didn't he?

He had a _right_ to know just how much lower he had to sink with that darned boy.

Severus collected his thoughts and focused them entirely on Harry. Almost instantly their minds connected and for a second Severus was startled. He hadn't expected it to be _that_ easy. He didn't have much time to ponder on it, however. Without further ado Harry's thoughts, memories and emotions came crashing down on him.

**Dementor.**

**Cold.**

**Screams.**

**Fear.**

**Darkness.**

**Lupin.**

**Shame.**

**Chocolate.**

Severus suddenly became aware of Harry's eyes on him and even though he was certain the boy couldn't feel the intrusion of his mind, he broke their connection and forced himself to look away.

A Dementor had tried to attack Harry!

Cold fury seemed to come out of nowhere. He hadn't agreed to give up on his future (a future that included a perfectly content, healthy, 18 year old Harry Potter scribbling absurd messages on his desk pad, thank you very much) for _this_.

_If Remus hadn't been there to help … !_

Severus was shaking with rage. This was unacceptable. He would not let something like this happen again.

Promise or no promise.

**_To be continued_**


	3. Unfogging the future

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**Disclaimer:**  
All characters belong to Jo … still. I just love playing with them.

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_"A soulmate is someone who has the locks to fit our keys, and the keys to fit our locks. When we feel safe enough to open the locks, our truest selves step out and we can be completely and honestly who we are; we can be loved for who we are and for who we're pretending to be. Each of us unveils the best part of one another. No matter what else goes wrong around us, with that one person we're safe in our paradise."  
_(Richard Bach)

Chapter 3  
**"Unfogging the future" **

Severus Snape didn't have much respect for many people. Strictly speaking, he often wondered whether or not he was the only teacher at Hogwarts with an IQ higher than that of a teacup. Even so, he thought it was saying _something_ about the quality of the faculty's recent Defense against the Dark Arts teachers that hiring a werewolf for the post seemed like a stroke of genius on Albus Dumbledore's behalf. Severus was man enough to admit, if only to himself, that Remus Lupin, though a werewolf _and_ a Marauder (the latter being a much bigger drawback in Severus' book), was a rather capable teacher. He was also a rather decent person.

For a werewolf anyway.

Or a Marauder.

Not that decency was Severus Snape's area of expertise to begin with.

All in all, he reckoned, Harry Potter could have chosen much worse people to teach him the Patronus Charm. Still, Severus couldn't help but notice the ever increasing amount of time that the blasted boy spent in Lupin's office nor the ever increasing amount of admiration in the Gryffindor's eyes whenever he looked at the man. Nor the fact that he wasn't supposed to notice these things at all.

To make matters worse, Severus hadn't been the only one to notice that he noticed.

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Harry resolutely shoved the teacup in front of him out of sight. 

'If I drink just one more cup of tea tonight, I'm going to puke,' he informed the Gryffindor common room at large and unceremoniously let his head fall on the table with a bang. He closed his eyes and yawned into a piece of parchment that was titled

_Unfogging the Future  
__with the help of tea leaves_.

Suddenly, Harry heard the chair next to him being pushed back in a rush and raised his head again just in time to see Ron hurtling himself through the door that lead to the boys' bathroom with a cry of 'OUT OF THE WAY! I NEED TO PEE!'

Hermione looked up from the book she had been burying her nose in for the past two hours and threw a contemptuous look at Harry and Ron's homework. 'Done with making up silly little predictions then?'

'Yep!' Harry answered cheerfully. 'Ron will wrestle with the Giant Squid next week and miraculously survive to tell the tale and I … hang on.' He glanced down his parchment for reference. 'Oh, right. I will catch the Snitch next game and help us win the Quidditch match against Ravenclaw.'

He grinned mischievously and Hermione rolled her eyes. 'You don't say.'

Harry yawned again spectacularly.

Hermione knitted her eyebrows. 'You still have trouble sleeping, don't you? Is it those dreams again?' she asked quietly.

He shook his head dismissively, clearly not wanting to delve into Hermione Granger's latest favorite subject of "Harry Potter's Very Strange Dreams."

'What're you reading anyway?' he asked instead, pointing at the book resting on her lap. 'You're kind of … absorbed.'

Hermione blushed. 'Oh, just … nothing. You wouldn't be interested.'

She casually attempted to let the book slip into her backpack while shielding the title from Harry's view. But with reflexes so fast they had earned him the position of Hogwarts' youngest seeker of the century, he snatched it from her.

'_Harry!_'

'Soulmates!' Harry read the title dramatically. 'Have you found yours? By Byron T. Altheus.'

He mockingly raised his eyebrows at Hermione, who blushed a darker shade of pink.

'So tell me,' asked Harry conversationally as he started leaving through the pages with feigned interest. 'Have you found yours yet, Hermione?'

'Found _what_ yet?' Ron had returned to join them at their table.

'Her soulmate,' Harry answered earnestly and grinned when Hermione made a pout, but Ron, who was staring at the book in Harry's hands, looked downright scandalized. 'You don't believe in that stuff, do you?' he asked her incredulously. 'There is no such thing as _soulmates, _Hermione!' (Ron made a face as though 'soulmates' was the name of a particularly nasty breed of spiders) 'That's just a bunch of crap that muggle authors have made up to sell their cheesy stories, you know.'

Hermione suddenly looked very angry. 'Like you would know either way, Mister I-have-the emotional-range-of-a ...' She grabbed one of the two small spoons lying on the table and flung it into Ron's lap, '… a TEASPOON!" With that she stormed up the stairs to the girls' dormitory and banged the door shut behind her.

Ron gawked. 'I … she … barking … honestly!' he stuttered indignantly. Then, as an afterthought: 'THAT HURT, BY THE WAY!' (Harry quickly buried his nose inside the book to hid a grin, when he heard a distant "GOOD!" from upstairs). Ron got up, still shaking his head. 'Well, I'm going to bed. You coming?'

Harry nodded absently, his eyes still glued to the book in his hands. 'You go ahead, I just wanna clean up our stuff first.'

'Cheers mate.' Ron yawned and began shuffling up the stairs. 'Good night!'

Harry gave a vague wave in Ron's approximate direction, his eyes never leaving the book in front of him. 'Night, Ron.'

It was Hermione, who found him early next morning, still amid their divination homework, having fallen asleep on "Our Dreams – Find your soulmate in your sleep", chapter 5 of the works of Byron T. Altheus …

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'Ah, Severus! Do come in. Have a seat.'

Severus sat down in the armchair that stood opposite the Headmaster's and looked at the old wizard tentatively.

'Lemon drop?' Dumbledore gestured cordially at a rather large bowl of candy on the table standing between them.

'I take it this isn't a social visit?' asked Severus brusquely, ignoring the offer.

Albus Dumbledore didn't answer right away. Instead he helped himself to a lemon drop, leaned back in his chair and surveyed the younger man in front of him. A small smile accompanied the trademark twinkle in his eyes. For a few seconds the two men gazed at each other without speaking. Then Dumbledore said: 'Did you have any visions lately, Severus?'

It wasn't a question.

Severus Snape had too much dignity to pretend he didn't know what the Headmaster was referring to. He also had too much wit to answer with a flat-out lie. Instead, he opted for the "half-truth," an art honed by many years of using Occlumency and working as a spy for the Order: 'One.'

'And you did not tell me about this?'

This wasn't a question either.

Severus shrugged nonchalantly. 'I did not think this vision to be of great significance, to be honest.'

'What did you see?'

Resolutely banning the way those emerald eyes had beamed at him from his mind for the time being, Severus sneered. 'A grown-up version of Harry Potter talking nonsense. Nothing unusual whatsoever.'

This did hardly qualify as a lie. Not even just a half-truth, really. However, he thought it wise not to mention the fact that the same grown-up version of Harry Potter had referred to him as sexy.

'Where was Harry in that vision of yours?'

There was another pause in which neither of them spoke.

'In my private chambers.' Severus said at last. And, in order to make his previous statement sound less incriminating, he added: 'I had the impression that Potter was a member of the Hogwarts staff. A colleague,' he added for good measure.

Of course Severus had had no impression of that kind, but the moment he spoke the words out loud, he realized they felt oddly true. Dumbledore seemed to be satisfied enough. 'Very well. And did you also have the impression that your connection was cut off for good?' His tone sounded like he might have asked for a report on the British weather, but he looked at Severus sharply. And this time the Potions teacher actually felt the other Legilimens tugging on his own mind probingly. Taken aback, he answered truthfully.

'I am not absolutely sure.'

Albus Dumbledore nodded. 'I thought not.'

The Headmaster stood up and began pacing the length of his office. Severus looked down at his own hands and saw they were clenched.

'The boy is not far from turning sixteen, Severus.' Dumbledore spoke finally. Severus thought that was a bit of an exaggeration, considering Harry Potter had only turned thirteen a few months ago, but he didn't object. He said nothing at all.

'You do realize the danger you'll put Harry in, should you not have managed to severe the ties by the time he turns sixteen, do you not?'

Severus closed his eyes. _'__Right!'_ he thought bitterly. _'Let's not mention the danger YOU have put him in repeatedly by allowing Dementors on Hogwarts grounds_ (the memory of Harry falling out of the open sky after a Dementor attack right above the Quidditch pitch _still_ made his stomach turn). _And let's not even mention the last two years at all. And while we're at it, let's also not mention the danger _I_ am putting myself in every minute of the day by severing these ties.'_

Not for the first time Severus found himself marveling over the fact that, for someone who always preached about the "Power of Love," the Headmaster seemed rather unconcerned about Severus' well-being in this whole matter. But of course _he_ wasn't the Boy Who Lived. _He_ wasn't destined to rid the world from evil. _He_ wasn't born to make the universe a better place. _He_ was just Severus Snape. Unworthy to be loved.

'I am fully aware of the danger, Professor!' Severus spat at last. 'And you can rest assured I would not _ever _knowingly subject Harry to danger of _any_ kind.'

'You will make sure your bond is cut then?'

Severus almost laughed at the absurdity of it all. 'But of course!' he scoffed, sarcasm dripping from every word. 'And now that you remind me, I might even try deducting house points or giving him detention for a change. Or how about handing out bad grades, humiliating him or his friends, or speaking ill of his father whenever the opportunity presents itself?' Now, Severus did laugh, but it wasn't a humerous sound. 'Don't worry, Albus, I will dutifully make sure that I will forever remain the top spot of Harry Potter's list of _People I Hate_. Second spot, mind.'

Albus Dumbledore watched him calmly until he had ended his rant. Then he nodded. 'That's all I'm asking you to do.'

_That was _all

For a moment Severus could only stare at him. Then he snorted derisively. 'Why yes, all this just might work. It's not like I have ever tried these methods before, is it?'

But Dumbledore ignored his sardonism once more. 'Maybe you only haven't tried hard enough,' he lightly replied. 'Now are you sure you don't fancy a lemon drop?'

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Severus made his way from Dumbledore's office back down to the Slytherin dungeons feeling distinctly ill-tempered with the world. He was sure he had a done a good enough job of shielding the _other_ "Future Harry" vision, which he had last night, from the Headmaster, but the older wizard had become suspicious nonetheless. 

A knot seemed to start forming in Severus' stomach as the images of last night's vision came flooding down on him. Dumbledore probably wouldn't have believed them to be true anyway, even if he _had_ managed to extract them from Severus' mind. He probably would have smiled that amused, little smile of his, twinkling eyes and everything, and told Severus he needed to get out more.

Meet new people.

Find himself a nice woman.  
_…_ _Ragged breath. Hands searching. Luscious lips parted eagerly …_

Or a man.  
_… A back arching. Emerald eyes unfocused. An erection pressing against his own …_

Or both.  
… _A moan. 'Oh God, Severus, please! PLEASE!' …_

Severus feebly attempted to exchange the all too familiar face in his vision with that of a random stranger. Just to see if he could.  
… '_I love you Severus. Merlin, I love you.'…_

Hot bile shot up his throat without warning. Severus body jerked in rebellion and he clutched his throat. He stood like this for a few moments until he had himself under control again. Once he did, he gave a short, harsh laugh.

'You're in trouble, Snape. In deep trouble indeed.'

**_To be continued_**


	4. The Red Ink Rose

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**Author's Note:  
**The incantation "Specialis Revelio" that Severus is using in this chapter causes something to show its hidden secrets. Many thanks and even more hugs to my faithful reviewers. You are stars!

**This chapter contains some dialoguedirectly taken from 'Prisoner of Azkaban'.****

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Chapter 4  
"**The Red Ink Rose" **

It had been raining for days.

Ron gazed out of the window and inwardly sighed at the prospect of another day trapped inside the castle. Well, at least they had another Hogsmeade trip to look forward to tomorrow. Neville swore the sun hadn't been shining ever since their return to Hogwarts and blamed it all on the Dementors. Hermione would only roll her eyes at that, but Ron and Harry both agreed that Neville had a point.

For one honorable moment Ron tried to force his concentration back on Mr. Binns, their History of Magic teacher, but the monotonous _blop blop blops_ of the rain pelting against the windows didn't exactly make the equally monotonous recital of their ghost teacher sound any more inspiring. And so Ron's attention quickly wandered again. Taking a look around, he found his attention span wasn't the worst in class. Dean and Seamus were playing 'Hangman' over in a corner and next to them Neville was trying to bewitch Trevor, his piteous toad, into a goldfish. For a moment Ron considered pointing out that Neville would need a goldfish bowl once his transfiguration was successful, but then he decided not to bother.

_When is it ever?_

Next to Ron, Hermione didn't pay much attention to class either. Instead, she was bent low over what looked suspiciously like her Arythmancy notes to him (not that he had ever bothered to take a closer look at that subject). Harry, who sat on Hermione's other side, seemed deeply absorbed in something that Ron was certain didn't have anything to do with History of Magic either. Occasionally, he would mark certain paragraphs in the book he was reading in. Ron didn't know what it was, but he had seen Harry reading in it quite often as of late.

_Probably 'Flying with the Cannons, Volume II'._

Every now and then Harry would frantically scribble down notes on a checkered piece of muggle paper. He had even resorted to using a muggle pen instead of his quill. Harry using muggle stationary seemed to imply a great sense of urgency somehow, though Ron couldn't be too sure. Harry had never shown any real sense of urgency when it came to schoolwork. That was Hermione's job and so Ron made a mental note to check Harry's forehead for a fever after class.

Now Harry leaned over to Hermione as if to consult her on what he had been reading and they talked in a hushed whisper.

Okay, so maybe it wasn't 'Flying with the Cannons, Volume II' after all.

The bell rang and all students sprung up tumultuously, shoving books and notes into their backpacks and bolting out of the door. Only Hermione and Harry remained seated, still animatedly whispering about a subject unknown to Ron. He was getting a bit annoyed.

Deliberately taking his time, Ron started rummaging around his bag while listening intently.

'Well, if all that's true he better finds me before I turn sixteen,' he could make out Harry's words now. 'Otherwise …. I might be in trouble.'

Ron thought Harry sounded rather cheerful at the prospect of being in trouble. And although he didn't know what Harry's sixteenth birthday had to do with anything, he now reckoned his friends could only be talking about You Know Who and felt oddly relieved. This surely wasn't a something they would deliberately keep him out from. And so he said jokingly:

'Well, you'd better let _Snape_ find you before your sixteenth birthday, Harry, or you'll be in trouble for sure. After all it's Potions next so ….,' Ron waved both hands around in front of Harry and Hermione, '… up, up you!'

Ron could have sworn that Harry looked at him warily for a moment, but then the dark-haired boy made a face and groaned. 'Potions. Darn! You're right.'

He folded his notes neatly and stuck them inside the middle of his book. Ron tried to catch a glimpse of the title, but Harry seemed to be handling the book in a way that always shielded the cover from Ron's view. When Hermione saw him looking, however, she took the book from Harry's hands (also making a quite show out of hiding the title), tapped it lightly with her wand and muttered an incantation that Ron couldn't quite make out. When she handed the book back to Harry, her eyes were sparkling.

Surprised, Harry glanced down on the book's front. 'Her-my-oh-nee!' he whined a second later. _'POTIONS FOR DUMMIES?'_

Hermione chuckled mischievously and shrugged. 'First thing that came to my mind …'

She squealed as Harry attempted to smack the book over her head, ducked underneath his raised arms and darted out of the classroom. Harry close behind.

Ron felt decidedly left out now.

He caught up with them again in the hallway in front of the dungeon that was their Potions classroom. Class hadn't started yet, but all students preferred turning up way in time over suffering their Potions teacher's wrath should they dare to be late. Everyone was chatting quietly or attempting to make last minute revisions. ('And what was the dragon tongue for again?' Neville could be heard from somewhere. 'To wipe your stupid arse with after potions lessons, dimwit!' Draco Malfoy could be heard from somewhere else.) Harry, however, was once more absorbed in his book, occasionally pointing out something to Hermione, who would lean in, read and nod thoughtfully.

'Potions for Dummies _my butt_!' Ron thought irritably and when he saw Professor Snape approaching behind his two friends, he momentarily contemplated giving them a warning and … decided against it. He also decided he definitely deserved to feel a tiny, little bit satisfied, when Snape crept up behind Harry and sneered: 'Interesting read, _Potter_?'

Snape had a way of spitting out Harry's last name - like it was that of the most disgusting creature known to mankind - that could only be rivaled by Malfoy Jr.

Harry jumped.

The book fell to the floor.

Hermione bent to pick it up, but Snape was faster. With an _uber_satisfied smirk, he looked down at the book in his hands and read: 'Potions for …' He stopped and glared at Harry suspiciously. (Ron fleetingly wondered if Snape was thinking along the lines of "Potions for Dummies _my butt_!" also.) Harry glared back.

And then Harry's notes slipped out of the book.

They sailed to the floor gracefully and by the time they had reached it, all eyes were fixed on Harry's papers. Harry seemed frozen in shock and only watched as Snape bent down once more to pick up the notes.

'That's private!' Hermione snapped as he unfolded the sheets. Snape merely cast her a cold look and started to read. His eyes widened and he looked at Harry sharply, his eyes darting back and forth from the notes in his hand to Harry. Suddenly, he took out his wand, tapped it on the book and quietly said: 'Specialis Revelio.'

Hermione gasped.

Harry closed his eyes.

Ron held his breath.

Severus Snape went white.

He stared at what Ron knew to be the _real_ cover of Harry's book for a long moment. Then, without saying another word, he tapped the book once more, thrust it back at Harry and turned around abruptly. "Get inside." he barked at the students who all but flinched. Snape opened the classroom door and disappeared inside, black robes billowing behind him. Everyone was quick to follow his advice. Only Harry stood frozen on the spot, clutching the book to his chest. And as Ron walked past him, he saw that the title once more said: "Potions for Dummies".

* * *

It was Saturday and the castle was unusually quiet. With the exception of the First and Second Years, all students had set off to Hogsmeade. Severus, who was leisurely sitting in one of his armchairs with a book resting on his lap, rolled his eyes. 'Let me rephrase that,' he spoke to himself as he glanced into the dancing fire in front of him. 'Everyone with the exception of the First and Second Years _AND_ Harry Potter.'

Severus sneered contemptibly at the thought of Harry's muggle relatives, who hadn't signed the silly little permission slip for those Hogsmeade trips for whatever silly reason.

_Maybe because they know that Harry's stark raving mad Godfather is on the loose?_

Good point.

Severus didn't know much about the Dursleys and that's how he liked it. He had spent the last ten years before Harry's arrival at Hogwarts picturing the boy as an insufferable little brat, spoiled rotten by his doting aunt and uncle. How easy it had been back then to pretend that the task of severing his ties with James Potter's brood would be a simple one.

Severus had found sleep easily during those years. Only rarely had his dreams been tainted by visions of a raven-haired young man with skin as light and even as the most exquisite marble. And if they were, Severus had been quick to deny that the marble skin belonged to the Potter boy at all. Never mind the fact that Trelawney's prophecy had been easy enough to understand.

**_"And what shall lead to his victory over the dark side, shall lead to his downfall in the end.  
The boy who lived will die for the man he's living for."_**

During the year after Harry's birth it had been difficult to believe that Severus could EVER be the man Harry "was living for". Despite Lily's reasoning, James had frankly forbidden Severus to ever lay eyes on his son and Severus had been unable to see how his path could ever possibly cross with Harry's. Besides, what evidence did he _really_ have that Harry was meant to be his mate one day? All Severus had was his visions. Dreams that James had stubbornly insisted, Severus only made up to spite him. Dreams of a pale young man with dark hair and round spectacles; a young man that resembled James Potter so startlingly that, once upon a time, Severus had been sure it _had_ been James. And who could have blamed him then?

Well, James had, obviously.

And Sirius Black of course.

But then Lily and James Potter had been killed by Lord Voldemort. And Harry had survived the Killing Curse.

The Daily Prophet had been quick to dub him "The Boy Who Lived".

And that's when all false pretense had gone down the drain. Severus had been given the order to not let his own prophecy meddle with the one of the child. Harry Potter was meant to rid the world from Satan's Spawn and live happily ever after. If he survived, that was. Harry Potter wasn't meant to waste his life being some ugly, old man's sidekick one day. And _really now_, the notion of a child, a small baby, being his soulmate was ridiculous to begin with.

That thought, memories of James Potter and fantasies of an equally stuck-up son, had made keeping away from Harry Potter easy enough.

But then the moment had finally come when Severus had set eyes on Harry for the first time in his life. A tiny boy amidst other equally tiny First Years waiting to be sorted into their houses. He had stared around the Great Hall in awe, a little bit scared and very much excited … and Severus had felt his defences melt.

While it was admittedly hard to think of the little rug rat as an equal, as his predestined partner even (to this day Severus found it almost impossible to think of the boy along the lines of "_future_ _lover"_), it was even harder to dismiss him as James Potter's rotten offspring now. While some of Harry's features, the unruly mess of black hair and those hideous round glasses, certainly made the boy look like a carbon copy of his father, his eyes did not.

They were Lily's eyes through and through.

Even so, Severus had given his all to keep up a wandproof façade of hatred in front of Harry (and everyone else for that matter) and overall, he thought he had done a damn good job. It had not taken long until Severus' apparent dislike for the boy was mirrored in Harry's emerald eyes - and that had made Severus' life much easier.

And then it had begun to hurt.

And then he had found out Harry was doing research on soulmates.

_And maybe not all hope is lost yet._

Severus shook his head as if to clear it from all inappropriate thoughts. He mustn't think like this. Harry's life was at stake. And he would not be the one putting it at risk. And yet Severus couldn't help but wonder, as so many times before, how things would have turned out if nobody had ever found out about Severus' soulmate. If he had never told James ….

* * *

_It was way past midnight and the Slytherin common room was empty and quiet. Empty except for a young boy, not much older than fifteen, sitting at the table nearest to the fireplace. Quiet except for the soft noise of his quill scratching over parchment._

_When he was done, the black-haired boy re-read his writings a couple of times (scratching his rather large nose as he did so) until he was certain he hadn't forgotten anything crucial. Then he cleaned the tip of his quill with a dirty, old cloth, and carefully dipped it into the bottle of red ink that was standing next to the Black he had been using before. __He bent down over the parchment once more and with his face screwed up in concentration, the tip of his tongue visible between his lips, he carefully started to draw. Within seconds a beautiful ink rose started blooming next to where the boy had signed the parchment with "With Love, Severus Snape"._

_The boy called Severus leaned back now and admired his creation with pride. _

_When the ink had dried, he gently picked up the paper and rolled it up. Then he carefully wrapped a red ribbon around it and, after a loving tip of his wand, the ribbon formed itself into a formidable looking rose, matching the one the young Slytherin had drawn only moments earlier._

'_Yulub?' said the boy now, breaking the silence. For a moment he stared about the room and nothing happened. But suddenly, with a soft pop, a house-elf appeared and looked at him eagerly. Severus smiled. 'There you are,' he said kindly. Then, more excitedly: 'It's done, Yulub! I wrote the letter now!'_

_Yulub, the house-elf, jumped up and down and clapped her tiny hands simultaneously. _'_Why, that is wonderful! Young master will not regret it!' she squealed happily. __Severus sighed, but couldn't stop a grin from spreading across his features. 'I hope you're right,' he said quietly. 'Will you bring this to his dorm room now, Yulub?'_

_Yulub carefully took the roll of parchment he presented to her and held it, palms up, like it was the most delicate thing in the world. And that's exactly what Yulub thought it was. __For in a way, she was holding the young master's heart in her outstretched hands._

'_I will make sure Mr. Potter gets it,' she promised, her voice dropping to a respectful whisper._

_Severus nodded. 'Thank you, Yulub. Put it on his bed, so he finds it right after he wakes up. But don't wake him up! And make sure you don't mix up his bed with somebody else's.'_

_They both gulped at the thought of Sirius Black finding the letter instead and Yulub swore on her life there would be no mistake. Then she was gone._

_The next morning came early for Severus and with the strange sensation of a dozen pixies dancing polka in his stomach, he turned around in his bed and buried his face deep inside his pillow. He had really done it! He had written a love letter to James Potter! He had explained all about soulmates and his dreams and how he knew that James and he where meant to be together forever. The pixies were stomping harder now._

_Had the Gryffindor already read the letter? Was he already on his way down to the Slytherin Dungeons to greet him?_

_For a while Severus amused himself with picturing how they would grin awkwardly at each other for a moment, and how James, no doubt the bolder one of the two, would then pull him into a bone-crushing hug. Nothing more. Severus' mum had told him "No funny business until after graduation!" after all. And that was good enough for the boy, the mere idea of holding James in his arms was enough to make him dizzy. _

_His dreams were about to become reality!_

_Severus stayed in his bed long enough for his roommates to get up and about … and what felt like a long enough time for James Potter to wake up, read his letter and, well, get used to the fact that he was destined to be with a boy he hated. __But Severus needn't worry about unimportant details like that. Priya had explained it to him often enough. If Severus and James _really_ were soulmates (and his dreams did leave no room for other interpretations!), then James would realize his love for Severus soon enough. He just needed a bit of nudging in the right direction._

_Severus reckoned a love letter was as good a nudge as any._

_Finally Severus couldn't bear it any longer and he pulled the curtains aside, jumped out of bed and into the now empty dorm room. He dressed carefully and – after taking a few deep breaths – he opened the door and stepped into the Slytherin common room. It was empty, too. Everyone had left for breakfast. __James Potter wasn't waiting on the other side of the Slytherin Portrait, but Severus didn't worry. He was probably waiting for him in the Great Hall. Saving him a seat next to him at the breakfast table. _

_Getting more confident with each step, Severus made his way up. And by the time he had reached the Entrance Hall on the ground floor, he felt positively elated._

_The first thing Severus noticed were the myriads of paper sheets everywhere. They were pinned on every wall, at least a hundred were bewitched to hang about in mid-air, and others were lying on the floor where people walked upon them carelessly. __Students were gathered in small groups and almost everyone was holding a paper in their hands. Heads turned when Severus Snape stepped into the Entrance Hall. Some avoided his gaze and blushed, some were smiling sympathetically and many smirked at him openly. Somewhere students were laughing loudly._

_Out of nowhere his best friend, Lucius Malfoy, came up to him. 'What's going on?' Severus asked when Malfoy pulled him towards the large entrance door. 'Later, Sev!' Lucius hissed and literally started dragging him outside. But it was too late._

_A large, beautiful rose had already caught Severus' eye._

_He tore his arm from Lucius' grip and picked up one of the many papers lying on the ground in front of him. _

_There it was. His red ink rose blossoming next to the words "With Love, Severus Snape"._

_He looked around, not wanting to believe what his heart already knew, and saw that every single paper flying around the Hall carried the same signature._

_The same rose._

_The same letter._

_Severus felt something break inside of him._

* * *

Frantic knocking woke Severus from his slumber and it took him a moment to adjust his mind to present tense. He sensed his godson outside his chambers and as if on cue, Draco Malfoy started yelling: 'Sev! Severus! Open up! UNCLE SEV!' 

The knocking continued.

'Merlin be damned!' Severus barked and opened the door with a flick of his wand. Draco stumbled inside, catching himself from falling over his own feet only just.

Severus smirked. 'Graceful, Junior.'

Draco made a face, wiped a few muddy strands of usually white blond hair from his eyes (in what he obviously thought to be an aristocratic manner) and said calmly: 'About time.'

'What is it, Draco?'

Reminiscing about the past hadn't left Severus in the best of moods.

'I just thought you'd be interested to know that I just saw Harry Potter's head floating around near the Shrieking Shack,' the young Slytherin continued evenly.

Severus blinked. 'You what?'

Draco told him about what had happened at Hogsmeade.

Severus wanted to strangle Harry. _Oh, the nerves of the boy!_ To sneak out into Hogsmeade with that lunatic of a Black romping around only Merlin knew just _how_ close!

He stormed outside and Draco plopped down on his godfather's couch with a chuckle.

* * *

Severus could tell Harry did his best to look innocent. He would have smiled if he hadn't been so angry with the boy. And if a smile hadn't completely blown his cover, of course. 

Of course, Harry flatly denied that any body parts of his had ever been floating around Hogsmeade.

'I've been up in Gryffindor Tower,' he lied unblinkingly. 'Like you told-'

'Can anyone confirm that?'

Their noses were all but touching now and Severus knew he was probing the boy. Egging him on. Tempting him to realize who his soulmate really was. He was like a muggle child playing with matches.

_Subtle._

Harry didn't say anything and, what with their faces only inches apart, Severus could almost see the brain working behind the boy's eyes. This time Severus couldn't help but smile. But of course that didn't change the fact that he would have very much liked to give the brat a good beating. _To put himself into danger like this! _

He straightened up again and started a rant about how people, time and time again, were going out of their way to safe the Golden Boy's behind and, really now, how did he thank them?

However, Severus didn't think the words were making much of an impression. Harry just stared through him blankly …

* * *

_Sirius had come up to him the day when Hogwarts seemed to spill over with Severus' love letter to James Potter. _

'_Hello there, Snivellus! Looking for your _soulmate_?' The word had sounded wrong coming out of his mouth._

_Severus saw that James Potter was standing only a few feet behind Black. He didn't look at Severus. Instead he fixed his blank stare on some invisible mark on Severus' chest._

'_Tell me, fag! Have you ever looked into a mirror before?' Sirius whooped now._

_Severus didn't know what a fag was, but it sure didn't sound like a compliment. But then not many things directed towards Severus ever did._

'_Listen James!' he tried to reason. 'Can't we just talk for a minute? Alone?'_

_Sirius cackled. _'_Alone? Listen carefully, Snape, and I will only say this once. JAMES POTTER IS NOT GAY! And even if he was, he would NEVER EVER be with scum like you. Now GET LOST!'_

'_James!' Severus pleaded. 'Please let's talk!'_

_But James only continued to blankly stare right through him._

* * *

'How extraordinarily like your father you are, Potter,' Severus said quietly and from out of nowhere a red ink rose sprung into his mind.

'He, too, was exceedingly arrogant. Strutting around the place with his friends and admirers … the resemblance between you is uncanny.'

It was a lie, of course, but suddenly he felt he just had to get a reaction out of Harry. _Had to_.

'My dad didn't strut,' said Harry coldly. 'And nor do I.'

'Your father didn't set much store by rules either,' Severus went on. 'His head was so swollen -'

'SHUT UP!'

Harry jumped to his feet. His fists were clenched and for a moment the severity of his response startled Severus greatly. 'What did you say to me, Potter?'

'I told you to shut up about my dad!' Harry seemed frantic now. 'I know the truth! He saved your life! Dumbledore told me!'

The words hit Severus like a branch of the Whomping Willow. Dumbledore had told him.

Harry knew what his father had done. What Sirius had done.

What Severus had done.

The red ink rose seemed to wither ... until Severus suddenly realized that the raving teenager in front of him had no real clue what he was talking about. Dumbledore hadn't told him everything. Harry didn't know about the letter.

He didn't know about the red ink rose.

He didn't know how Sirius had almost succeeded in luring him inside the Shrieking Shack under the false pretense that James was waiting there for him, willing to talk about the letter after all. Wanting to apologize and all that. He didn't know how humiliated he had been when Harry's father had stopped him the last minute, confessing it had all been a joke. He had never planned on talking to Severus about anything, let alone their non-existent shared future. Instead the plan had been to send him straight into the arms of a rampaging werewolf.

_How was that for romantic?_

But Harry knew none of this and Severus could hardly blame the Gryffindor for being angry at him. He suddenly felt very tired and was relieved when their childish little "glaring contest" was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.  
'Yes?' Severus answered, rubbing his eyes quickly. A few seconds later Remus Lupin stepped inside. 'Everything okay? I heard yelling.'

The irony of being glad to see Lupin wasn't lost on Severus.

'Do come in, Professor', he said without real malice. 'Maybe you will have more luck in finding out just how Harry managed to walk around the Gryffindor Tower while his head was floating around Hogsmeade.'

Savoring the thoroughly confused look on his fellow teacher's face, Severus brushed past Harry and left the two of them standing in his office.

A glass of Firewhisky suddenly sounded like a great idea.

**_To be continued_**


	5. The thin line between love and hate

* * *

**Disclaimer: **I'm not J.K. Rowling and the HP universe doesn't belong to me.  
If it did, I would be rich enough to hire Alan Rickman and have him lounge in my apartment dressed as Severus Snape all day. ;-)

_The lyrics used in this chapter are taken from the song "Makin' Out" by Mark Owen._

* * *

Chapter 5  
"**The thin line between love and hate" **

It was only the first day back at Hogwarts and already Severus felt as though he had never left. Gone was the relaxed spirit of the summer holidays, gone was the sanctuary of home, gone was the … absence of Harry Potter.

All gone … and he was back. Back with Dumbledore's _It's all for the best, dear boy! _twinkle, Trelawney's frightened _I wreaked havoc with your life, but you mustn't look at me like you want to tear me limb from limb, Severus!_ look and Harry Potter's _I despise you, you greasy old bastard!_ glare - which was conveniently plastered on just about every other student's face as well.

To make things easier and all.

You had to hand it to Sirius Black – certified Expert on destroying the life of Severus Snape! It had taken the man a good three hours to accomplish what Severus himself hadn't managed in three years: to make Harry Potter truly, madly, deeply detest him.

And detest him Harry did. It was clearly written on the youth's face ever since their confrontation in the Shrieking Shack at the end of last term. Severus had been so blinded by his hate for Black that night - and even more so by his fear for Harry - that he hadn't been able to sense what Remus Lupin and the children had already known. Sirius Black was innocent. He hadn't _wanted_ to see it. So maybe Black wasn't guilty of betraying Lily and James. He was _still_ twisted and dangerous! Some people deserved a cell in Azkaban just for breathing … and Sirius Black was definitely one of them.

So now the separation of his soulmate was accomplished at last, Severus was sure of it. The way the teenager glared at him was proof enough, really. Not to mention the fact that no grown-up version of Harry Potter had perturbed his dreams for weeks at a time now. Frankly, he hadn't given the boy much thought at all over the holidays. Truth be told, this surprised him somewhat. Severus had expected that their definite separation would cause him far more heartache and physical agony.

_Good riddance, really._

He and Harry Potter had probably never been soulmates in the first place.

Now that he was back at Hogwarts, though, Severus had to admit that he _still_ had a hard time tolerating the boy's presence. It unnerved, even aggravated him at times. This, of course, could mean two things: they were still connected to each other or … he simply didn't like the kid, period.

The line between love and hate was said to be a thin one.

Whatever the case, Severus was only too glad to return to his private chambers that first evening back at school and enter a blissfully Harry Potter-free zone thereby. All he wanted now was a hot bath, a glass of wine and a good book. Preferably all at once.

Treasuring the peaceful silence that welcomed him, the teacher piled the fifth-year essays on Befuddlement Draught on his desk and shook off his robes which he draped neatly over the chair. The robes were soon followed by his black dress shirt, his shoes and socks. Then, wearing only a pair of black muggle slacks, he generously poured himself a glass of wine and went into his bathroom.

A flick of his wand opened the taps of his bathtub and another added green bubble bath to the steaming flow of water. Then he went back into the living room to get something to read. For a while he inspected his rather impressive selection, occasionally sipping on his red wine. The gurgling noise of running water filled his quarters and slowly Severus started to feel at ease with the world again. He had just chosen a book and was about to take it off the shelf … when he stopped dead in his tracks.

The water had stopped running!

For a moment there was a deafening silence.

And then somebody started singing.

* * *

Draco Malfoy didn't remember the last time he had ever cried (though if being pressed on the matter, he would stubbornly insist it could only have been that one time, at the age of three, when his good-for-nothing nanny had forced him into that ridiculously plebeian suit with little purple bunnies on), but right now he very much felt like crying. 

Every single bone in his body hurt.

Professor Moody didn't care. He dragged him down the stairs that led to the Slytherin Dungeons and all but mangled Draco's arm with his fierce grip. The boy had no choice but to stumble along. Finally they reached the portrait that guarded the entrance to the quarters of the Head of Slytherin house.

'Open!' Mad-Eye Moody barked, but the beautiful Sphinx on the picture didn't bat an eye. When she noticed Draco's disheveled form, however, and the death grip that the teacher still held on the student's arm, she frowned. Draco smirked. He knew they were thinking the same thing.

Severus Snape would not be amused.

Moody demanded entry once more, but to Draco's great surprise the Sphinx shook her head. 'The Head of house can not be disturbed at the moment,' she informed them. 'You may come back at a later time, Professor, but I suggest you let the boy go first.'

Draco's heart sank and he desperately wondered what his godfather was doing. What could possibly be of such importance that the Sphinx didn't view the obvious peril Draco was in as a more pressing matter?

* * *

Severus' first impulse was to storm into the bathroom and hex the intruder into anything small enough for his foot to squash it. 

It was the voice that changed his mind.

It was as though it reached the very core of Severus' being; caressing it, crushing it, fixing it - making him whole again. For a while the teacher stood transfixed, immobilized by the pressure of his own emotions, and listened intently to the cheerful song that came drifting out of his bathroom.

'_I'll be the one who takes your coat off  
One to take the blame  
I'll be the one you call your lover  
Every now and then  
You'll be the one who keeps me sober  
One to keep me sane  
And you say shut up, shut up  
Every time I say it.'_

The singing stopped and Severus heard the sound of splashing water instead. Finally able to move again, the teacher resolutely crossed his living room and opened the door to the adjoining bathroom, bracing himself for what he _knew_ he was about to see. He had known it the second he had heard the voice, had known it the second his emotions had threatened to suffocate him. He was having another vision.

Even so, the sight of an almost naked, grown-up Harry Potter in his bathroom was an unsettling one.

Unsettling in a rather attractive way, mind.

Harry sat on the edge of the tub with his back turned towards Severus. He was splashing the water with his left hand merrily, turning green splotches of bubble bath into white foam in the process. With the exception of a dark blue towel that was casually wrapped around his waist he was naked, and Severus drunk in the sight of the young man in front of him.

His mate.

He was no doubt taller and older, but his raven-black hair was _still_ the usual stubborn mess and stuck up in as many different angles as that of the present tense Original. He was _still_ wearing that same old pair of round spectacles, too. His shape was delicate yet muscular and well-defined. His pale, almost luminous skin looked …. _inviting_ … smooth and flawless.

Harry seemed lost in a daydream now. He leisurely scooped up white foam, only to tip over his hand a moment later, and watch the bubbles slide off and back down into the water. A wave of tranquility washed over Severus and with a start he realized that it wasn't his own emotion. It was Harry's.

Severus felt his ability to breathe steadily slip away. This was just a vision! How could it feel so _real_?

Suddenly Harry began to sing again.

'_I'll be the one who stands beside you in the photograph  
I'll be the one that's in your water when you want me there  
I'll be the one you're falling over every time you laugh_

**He loved Harry. **The knowledge hit Severus with such utter clarity and simplicity that it felt like a revelation. How could he have _ever_ doubted his own visions, his dreams, his feelings?

_And you say shut up, shut up  
Every time I say  
__I'll be the one who keeps you guessing, swears a lot_

**It had always been Harry. **How one earth had he _ever_ been able to mistake JAMES POTTER for his soulmate?

_I'll be the one that left your colors in the white wash  
__You'll be the one that knocks the man out I was beating up_

**Harry was his. **

_And you say shut up, shut up  
__Every time I say …'_

Suddenly Harry seemed to sense that he was not alone anymore and turned around. As soon as he spotted Severus, his face broke into a smile and again Severus felt an emotion surging through him that wasn't his, although it definitely mirrored his own feelings.

Love.

It surprised Severus that his Legilimens senses were strong enough to pick up the emotions of a vision, but he reasoned that - with true visions being a window to the future - it was only logical. They _were_ soulmates after all. And there wasn't a more powerful bond than this.

What did it matter anyway? He wasn't allowed to let this vision ever become a reality, but he would enjoy it while it lasted … and so he smiled back at the boy, who positively beamed at him now. 'There you are!' said Harry. 'I was waiting for you ... lazy bum.'

He scooped up another handful of foam and playfully thrust at Severus. Severus froze. He _felt_ the foam sliding down his face. He _smelled _it. Severus knew this was impossible … for this was only a vision.

Or was it?

Harry laughed and got up from his place on the bathtub. He walked over to where Severus stood rooted to the spot and stopped right in front of him. Severus noted that even though _Future Harry_ had grown quite a few inches, he was still almost a head shorter than him and had to look up to look him in the eyes.

'Come here,' Harry said warmly and before the Potions master knew what was happening, Harry took off his towel and wiped it gently across Severus' face. Severus felt as though someone had poured a bucket of ice water over his head when their bodies made contact. THIS WAS IMPOSSIBLE! He wasn't supposed to ACTUALLY FEEL Harry.

This COULDN'T be a vision then. This COULDN'T be Harry Potter.

This had to be (_A test from Dumbledore maybe. Or Voldemort.)_ a trap.

A second later the young man, who looked so very much like Harry Potter, was pinned roughly against the cold stone wall of his bathroom.

'Who are you?' Severus snarled.

Wide-eyed, the boy stared at the Potions master and then down at the wand that was aimed at his throat. Severus sensed his confusion and once more he was startled by the strength of their apparent connection and the clarity of his Legilimency. But this _wasn't_ Harry. It simply COULDN'T be!

'WHO ARE YOU?' he repeated.

The boy blinked somewhat startled, but he wasn't afraid. Severus felt waves of trust radiating from the boy … and a moment later Harry's face lit up again in an impish grin. 'Oh … are we trying to spice things up a little?' His voice dropped to a sensual whisper. 'I'm Harry Potter, sir, and I've been a very, _very_ naughty boy. Will you give me detention now … _Professor_?'

And with that he leaned in and planted a passionate kiss on Severus' mouth.

Severus flung the impostor away from him. The boy's head collided with the tiles behind him with a sickening thud and Severus felt tremors of pain rippling through his own body. 'You are _NOT_ Harry Potter!' he growled and jabbed his wand so hard into the boy's throat that Harry hissed in pain.

'What the ….?' He coughed. 'Sev, you're hurting me!' The younger man was highly confused, but Severus _still_ sensed no fear. Instead, Potter looked at him crossly now. 'This isn't much of a turn on, you know? I'm all for being kinky and all, but you better find another approach quickly if you plan on getting any tonight.'

Severus Snape lost it then. Maybe this was nothing but a student's (or a dysfunctional staff member's) joke, but he would not allow being spoken to like this. He hurled the boy around, so that he was facing the wall, wrenched his hands backwards, so that his arms were crossed behind his back, and then yanked them up brutally. Harry screamed.

Severus pressed his whole weight against the naked, young man, so that he was helplessly squashed against the white tiles, his glasses askew.

'Who sent you?' Severus whispered into his ear threateningly. 'And if you think I'm going to buy your cock-and-bull story about you being Harry Potter …'

'Have you lost your mind?' Harry croaked. 'I _am_ Harry Potter. Who else would I be? Gilderoy Lockhart on Polyjuice?'

Severus gave his arms a sharp tug and the boy whimpered. 'Severus, stop it!' he. It's _me_! HARRY! If you're honestly being paranoid, why don't you just use some bloody Legilimency on me?'

'Harry Potter doesn't know about Legilimency!' Severus hissed triumphantly and yanked the boy's arms once more for good measure.

'Are you fucking kidding me!' Harry cried out, trying to turn his head back far enough to look at him. 'YOU were the one who taught me, Sev! Together with Occlumency! In my fifth year!'

'Harry Potter has started his fourth year only today.' Severus answered coldly.

'SEVERUS, THIS IS NOT FUNNY!' Harry yelled angrily. 'If this is supposed to be some kind of sick joke, I give up, all right? I have no sense of humor then. I _am_ Harry Potter, Merlin be damned! And I'm not a freaking student anymore! I AM YOUR HUSBAND!'

Severus felt a jolt in his stomach like he had just missed a step. 'That's not possible!' he whispered. 'I would never marry you.'

The body underneath him went limp. A blast of humiliation hit Severus; so powerful it knocked the wind out of him. There was a long pause before Harry spoke. 'Let go of me, Severus,' he said tonelessly. 'Let go of me right now.'

And for some reason … Severus did.

The young man turned around and looked at him. The original warmth, that had filled his green eyes upon looking at Severus a few minutes ago, was gone. Instead his eyes suddenly seemed terribly dull. Without warning a flood of images came crashing down on Severus.

_Harry sitting behind the piano, beaming at him with sparkling eyes.  
Lucius, Draco and Harry gamboling around the gardens of Malfoy Manor.  
Him and Harry making love.  
The Snape Family seal.  
Him aiming his wand against the chest of an unknown plump, shaking teenager.  
Harry dancing around the kitchen comically, Yulub beside him doubling over with laughter.  
__Him and Harry yelling each other.  
Two beautiful rings.  
__Him and Harry kissing passionately.  
__Him smiling.  
Harry and Draco with their arms around each others shoulders and triumphant looks on their faces - Harry wearing a Slytherin Seeker T-shirt, Draco wearing a Gryffindor one.  
__Him yanking Harry away from a pensieve.  
A gleaming Christmas Tree with a pile of colorful presents underneath.  
__Him laughing.  
__Harry lying in a hospital bed with him sitting by his side.  
Harry, Draco and Priya sitting behind the piano, singing and playing merrily.  
__Narcissa and Harry embracing each other.  
__Him and Harry flying without broomsticks.  
Him and Harry exchanging vows._

At last it stopped and Severus swayed on his feet, unable to comprehend what he had just seen. 'Harry!' he stuttered. 'Harry!'

Harry Potter's smile was small and mirthless. 'So I _am_ Harry after all, huh?'#

He picked up the towel and wrapped it tightly around his waist. Then, subconsciously rubbing an ache in his right shoulder, he looked around searchingly. 'Where are my stupid clothes?' he said quietly, not meeting Severus' eyes. And suddenly things fell into place. Suddenly Severus understood.

If _he _was able to see the future sometimes, then maybe _Harry_ was able to …

Severus made a step towards the young man and put a tentative hand on his mate's shoulder. Harry didn't flinch at the touch, he noted gratefully, and instead looked up at Severus hopefully. His eyes were begging for an explanation.

'Have you ever time-traveled, Harry?' the older man asked softly.

Harry rolled his eyes. 'You know I have! Hermione and I used the Time-Turner once, remember? When we saved Sirius from your Dementors.' He had the decency to look sheepish.

_So that's how they did it. Wicked little buggers. _

Severus refrained from having a nervous breakdown, however. 'No,' he said instead. 'I mean … spontaneously. Without the help of a Time-Turner.'

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'Of course not! What are you …?' The boy froze mid-sentence and … understood. For the first time this evening he radiated fear. 'You're not Sev!' said Harry disbelievingly. 'I mean … you're not _my_ Severus … are you?'

Severus shook his head.

'The Harry Potter I know has only just turned fourteen,' he said quietly. 'He has started his fourth year today.'

Harry Potter closed his eyes. 'I am eighteen.' he said tonelessly. 'I'm … oh shit!' He paused as the realization of what had happened truly hit him.  
'I wanna go home.' he said in a shaking, scared voice. 'I don't want to be here. You … you HATE me!' He looked at the older man accusingly and Severus felt a fresh surge of panic coming from the boy.

Harry suddenly dashed past him into the living room. Severus followed.

'Severus? Sev, can you hear me?' Harry yelled frantically. 'I want to go home! Please get me, Sev. Please come and get me!'

It all but broke Severus' heart to hear Harry pleading with his future-self, begging Severus to take him home. The teacher was still searching around for words of comfort, when suddenly he sensed someone standing outside his portrait hole. It was his godson.

And he was being hurt.

* * *

For a moment Professor Moody gaped at the Sphinx. Then he looked at Draco and snarled: 'Do you have the password?' 

Draco shook his head.

He _did_ have the password to his godfather's private chambers, of course, but he'd be damned if he gave it to that Creep. Draco never requested entrance by means of the password either. He had gotten it for emergencies only and was otherwise supposed to enter Severus' quarters like everybody else.

'You're Snape's rotten godson, don't tell me you don't have the blasted password!'

Draco shook his head again stoically.

Mad-Eye Moody didn't buy it. He let out a low, menacing growl and yanked Draco's sore arm so brutally that Draco cried out.

The portrait flew to the side.

'LET GO OF HIM RIGHT NOW!' Severus Snape thundered. Every fiber of his body seemed to radiate fury. Draco had never seen his godfather so angry before in his life … and it filled him with childish pride. This was for _him_!

Moody seemed to understand that this was not the time to test the Potions master's patience and – at last - Draco's arm was released.

Draco quickly fled out of range. Hiding behind Severus, he felt safe enough to send a trademark Malfoy sneer towards the hated DADA teacher. _You're a goner, freak! _Glaring he rubbed his throbbing arm and hoped there would be a nasty bruise to show his father later on. Then again, he'd surely have enough bruises from where he had bounced off the ceiling and onto the hard stone-floor of the Entrance Hall.

Repeatedly.

In the form of a little white ferret.

Fuming and humiliated, Draco replayed the previous events over and over again in his mind, mentally shoving the images towards the Legilimens next to him (conveniently leaving out his prior attack on Potter), hoping Severus would pick them up. His eyes watered at the memories of those traumatizing moments and as so often, his godfather seemed to sense his distress. He put a soothing hand on Draco's neck and gently pulled him closer. The tender gesture surprised Draco as much as it made him proud. Such displays of affection were usually reserved for the privacy of their home and it was only proof of how angry Severus was. Whether he understood about the transfiguration or not …. Mad-Eye was in for a real treat!

Draco wanted to chuckle with glee.

'Go.' Severus now told Draco quietly, his piercing gaze still fixed on Moody, and it took Draco's last ounce of self-control not to whoop triumphantly at last. Moody was SO dead!

Instead he settled for one last condescending sneer at the enemy before disappearing inside the Slytherin common room.

* * *

When Severus Snape returned into his quarters a few minutes later (after threatening Moody with a wide range of horrific curses, that would earn him life at Azkaban, in case he _ever_ heard of the bastard touching his godson again), he couldn't help feeling relieved when he found Harry was still pacing his living room. At the same time he felt guilty for being so egoistical. After all, the boy was beside himself with fear. 

'Harry!' Severus started helplessly. 'It's all …'

Harry whipped around. 'ALL RIGHT?' he bellowed. 'NOTHING IS ALL RIGHT! I have shown you the future! I have told you we're getting married. AND YOU FUCKING HATE MY GUTS!'

He looked on the verge of a mental breakdown.

'What if I have destroyed everything by showing you all those things?' Harry ranted on. 'What if you're going to stop yourself from falling in love with me now? Just out of spite! I mean, you said it yourself, you would never marry me! That's how you feel about me! You don't even like me yet!'

Harry dropped to his knees. All strength seemed to have left him.

'Sev …', he said pleadingly. 'I want my family back! Please don't take this away from me. Don't take this away from _us_! I love you. Oh God, you have no idea how _much_ I love you! Please, _please_ don't take away my … !' But he never finished his last sentence.

Harry Potter had vanished.

A raw wound seemed to open in Severus' chest despite the huge relief he felt on Harry's behalf. He wanted the boy back for himself!

He wanted him back so badly.

**_To be continued_**


	6. Freak

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* * *

**

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and the HP universe doesn't belong to me. _Damn!  
_

* * *

Chapter 6  
"**Freak" **

Harry Potter had been in a vile mood all day. He sat on the windowsill, alternately staring into the darkness outside or snapping at bypassing Gryffindors who had the nerves to ask him if he was alright. And so it happened that the common room was soon empty except for the Trio, despite the fact that it was only nine o' clock. Hermione _was_ going to let Harry get away with his attitude (he had enough on his plate after all) until Harry made a crucial mistake.

He let his aggressions out on a couple of books.

She and Ron had watched quietly as Harry got up from his seat by the window and stormed up into his dorm room. They had watched quietly as he came marching down again, carrying a large book stack that swayed dangerously in front of him. They had watched quietly as he took the first book on top of the pile and flung it into the fire.

But Hermione wasn't going to quietly watch him burn the second.

She was by his side the moment he raised his arm to throw the next book into the fireplace. She grabbed his hand, tore the book from his grip and yelled: 'ENOUGH ALREADY!'

Harry glared.

Then he sneered (Hermione felt eerily reminded of Draco Malfoy for a second) and attempted to throw the third book instead.

'HARRY, STOP!'

Hermione managed to rescue book three as well, but Harry seemed absolutely determined to obliterate the pile in his arms. Frantically he flung the books from him one by one - a few hit the intended target, but most of them landed on the floor pathetically, because Hermione was flailing her arms about, managing to hit most of the books from her friend's hands.

'RON!' she cried. 'A little help, please?'

Ron Weasley, who had been gaping at the scene in front of him, snapped out of a reverie and came to Hermione's aid. He managed to wrestle the remaining books from Harry's arms and quickly carried them over to the table farthest away from his raving friend while Hermione used a Banishing Charm to get the books that lay on the floor into a safety zone.

The air around Harry seemed to cackle with his rage as he stood, defeated, by the fire. His fists were clenched by his side as he glowered at his two friends.

'Those are _my _books!' he snarled through gritted teeth. 'I can do with them whatever I want!'

By now Hermione was sure Harry had lost his marbles.

'Why would you want to burn your books, Harry? What's wrong?' she asked in her most pacifying voice, but Harry didn't answer. Instead he threw himself down on his favorite armchair, crossed his arms and resumed glaring into the flames. Hermione considered this a major improvement and decided not to press the matter, until she heard Ron say:

'But … these are all books on soulmates!'

* * *

Severus Snape waved his wand over the foul smelling cauldron in front of him. A second later the bubbling, yellow-that-was-supposed-to-be-blue concoction inside had vanished and the cauldron looked as good as new. With a second flick of his wand the Potions master transferred the shiny cauldron over to the other empty cauldrons that piled up behind his desk, waiting for storage. 

'Why, that's another 'D' for you, Mister Longbottom,' Severus murmured and instantly the quill that hovered in mid-air over the open pages of a black leather-bound notebook beside the teacher, scribbled down a tiny D in one of the many columns below.

With a resigned sigh Severus leaned back in his chair and looked out of the window. His thoughts wandered aimlessly until his gaze came to rest on the six golden hoops towering high above the Quidditch pitch, gleaming in the distance. Even though Severus couldn't see the ground from where he sat, he knew that – with the exception of the six golden goalposts - the Quidditch pitch was pretty much unrecognizable at the moment. Twenty-foot high hedges zigzagged all over the field, stretching out into one gigantic, dark maze.

Harry Potter's third task.

Instantly memories of that one momentous evening last summer, when he had found the future version of Harry Potter sitting in his bathroom, came crashing down on Severus and were, as always, followed by the now familiar heartache. How badly he wanted to see him again! Not the cranky teenager that hated his guts, no, but his _husband_. The Harry Potter that had told him that he loved him. The Harry Potter that had wanted to … Severus grinned to himself … get kinky with him.

_Everything_ seemed to trigger his memories of that evening. From a harmless Quaffle over the Whomping Willow to a common broomstick - the whole blasted castle was full of Harry Potter reminders.

Not to mention Harry Potter himself, of course.

Severus stayed as clear of the teen's path as possible. Seeing the fourteen year old Harry Potter had become a bit … disturbing. He felt no physical attraction whatsoever for the teenager (which was perfectly normal even for soulmates as Harry wasn't of age yet), but whenever Severus looked at the boy now, he was forcibly reminded of how his wiry, naked body, pinned against the bathroom wall, had felt … would one day feel … writhing against his own. And those mental images didn't help Severus' longing for Harry's future self at all.

Forcing all inappropriate intentions from his mind (thinking of Flubberworms and Filch always did the trick), Severus pulled the next cauldron towards him for inspection. Draco's potion was shimmering in a perfect shade of blue. The quill was just about to neatly write down an appreciative 'O' for _Outstanding_, when suddenly a deafening rattle echoed through the room.

The teacher and his floating quill jumped in unison.

* * *

Alarmed Hermione stared the books on the table. 'Why do you want to burn all these?' 

'BECAUSE I DON'T NEED THEM, OKAY?' Harry roared.

'You could just donate them to the library,' Ron suggested and Harry snorted contemptuously. 'Go ahead. I don't care.' He meant it.

Hermione was truly worried now. Hesitantly, she knelt down in front of Harry's chair and put a hand on his knee. 'Please tell me what happened, Harry,' she said softly. 'Why are you so upset?'

'I spoke to Sirius,' Harry said at last, sounding pained. 'About my soulmate.'

'About … 'bout … _your_ … your what?' Ron spluttered.

'What did he say?' Hermione asked.

And Harry told them.

* * *

_Sirius Black emptied the entire flask of pumpkin juice in one go and burped contentedly. Sorry,' he said._

_Harry grinned._

_'I had forgotten how good the food at Hogwarts is,' Sirius mumbled, impatiently tearing off the wrapping of his third sandwich. For a while they sat in silence, while Sirius wolfed down the contents of the care package that Harry had brought to the cave that was his godfather's hiding place. Harry was just beginning to worry that he hadn't brought enough food, when Sirius licked his fingers one by one with a resounding smack before announcing: 'Merlin, I'm stuffed!'_

_Harry sighed in relief._

_'So …,' Sirius said conversationally, stuffing wrappings and used napkins into an empty paper bag. 'I've been reading the Daily Prophet.'_

_Harry rolled his eyes. 'Oh yeah?'_

_'Got yourself a girlfriend, haven't you?' Sirius grinned._

_'I have NOT!'_

_'Oh.' Sirius looked disappointed. 'Well, Hermione would definitely be quite a catch if you ask me. Feisty, that one, but ...' He wriggled his head appreciatively._

_'Hermione is my FRIEND!' The look of indignation on Harry's face was comical and the older man chuckled. 'Not the worst start where I come from.'_

_Harry clicked his tongue dismissively._

_'Well, are you seeing anyone else then?'_

_When Harry shifted uncomfortably, Sirius nudged him. 'I'm your godfather! You're supposed to tell me these things!' he teased._

_Harry seemed to contemplate this._

_'Sirius …?' he asked carefully, scratching his head. 'Do you … uhm … do you believe in soulmates?'_

_His godfather flinched. 'Soulmates?' the man asked warily. 'Why do you ask?'_

_Harry blushed. 'I … I don't know. Well … I mean … I think I might have one.'_

_'What makes you say that?'_

_'I have these dreams …' Harry answered hesitatingly._

_And then it all came pouring out._

_'I've always had them, but lately they've become more … intense, in a way. More frequent, too. Well, I don't even know if I can call them dreams, it's hard to explain. It's more like … there's someone there. A presence. I cannot see him, but I know he's there. And I need him to be there. I feel ill when he's not around for too long!'_

_'In your dreams?'_

_'Yes! And no! Sometimes I think I can even feel him when I'm awake. No, not feel. Sense him. Like I just know somebody is walking next to me under an Invisible Cloak or something. But whenever I reach out, I can't grasp him. I don't know who he is! All I know is …!' - Harry delivered the last line with all the appropriate dramatization. – 'All I know is that I LOVE him!'_

_'Him?' Sirius asked quietly._

_Harry nodded. 'When I was little, I thought he was an angel. My Angel. But when I asked my aunt and uncle about it, they said angels would never waste their time watching over wicked children like me.' __Harry swallowed. __'And so I started to think they were memories instead. Like, of my parents. But … well … they aren't memories!' _

_Harry blushed fiercely. _

_'__And then Hermione was reading this book about soulmates. I made fun of her, I thought it was all rubbish girly-romance-stuff, but then I read the book, too, and it all sounded … so … familiar. It all made sense somehow.' Harry was talking himself into a frenzy. 'The books say that you won't be able to recognize your soulmate until you're around sixteen but that you will always sense them, because they are a part of you. And, Sirius, did you know that you can die if you don't find your soulmate by then?' Harry looked scandalized. 'I hope I can find him, Sirius! Or that he finds me! Oh, I hope I will know who he is soon!'_

_'So you're gay?' Sirius said._

_Harry opened his mouth. And closed it again._

_'What?' he said uncertainly._

_'So you're gay?' Sirius repeated._

_The question caught Harry completely off-guard. For as long as he could remember he had referred to the presence in his dreams as a he. He had never thought about what it meant to have a male soulmate. Had never thought about what that_ made _him._

_'Would that be bad?' Harry asked quietly._

_Sirius didn't answer right away. 'I hadn't thought, that's all,' he said after a moment._

_Harry was hurt to hear the disappointment in his godfather's voice. 'You think so, too, then,' he said, his voice hard._

_Sirius looked puzzled. 'Think what?'_

_'That I'm a freak!'_

_'Harry, I didn't say that!' Sirius sounded sincerely shocked. 'What are you talking about?'_

_'That's what the Dursleys always say. I'm a freak. Not normal. And maybe they are right,' Harry laughed bitterly. 'Now they can add "gay" to my list of abnormalities, too!'_

_'You're not abnormal!' Sirius replied urgently. 'And it's okay to be gay. I was surprised, that's all. I didn't mean to upset you! But listen, Harry! You should forget about this soulmate stuff. It's … it's nonsense anyway, if you ask me. And you really have to concentrate on other things now instead of that git. You have the third task coming up and you should practice your charms and …'_

_'WHO?' Harry interrupted sharply._

_Sirius looked at him, startled. 'I'm sorry?'_

_'You said I have to concentrate on other things now instead of that git. Who?'_

_Sirius went chalk white. 'You know, just that … dream … person … thing … of yours!' he stammered._

_'Why did you call him a git?'_

_'Just because!' Sirius waved his arms about, but he didn't meet Harry's eyes._

_Harry stared._

_'Sirius, do you KNOW who the person in my dreams is?' he croaked. His voice seemed to have climbed an octave or two._

_'Of course I don't!' Sirius huffed. 'How would I know that?'_

_'SIRIUS!'_

_'Harry, I'm telling you, I don't …'_

_But Harry didn't let him finish. 'Sirius!' he gasped. 'If you know something about what my dreams mean, you have to tell me! You are my godfather! If you don't tell me this, then who will? I have a RIGHT to know!'_

_When Sirius made no attempt to answer, Harry took a desperate measure. __'If you don't tell me … I will get up and leave. I will never ever speak to you again, Sirius, and I mean it,' he said quietly but determined._

_Sirius looked as though Harry had hit him._

_'Harry, I can not tell you!' he yelled desperately. 'I gave a promise!'_

_'TO WHOM?' Harry yelled back._

_Sirius hid his face in his hands. 'To your father.'_

_Harry froze. 'My …? DAD KNEW? He knew about my soulmate? And he doesn't want me to know who it is?' he asked disbelievingly. 'So I … **have** a soulmate?'_

_Sirius looked up. 'Oh, you do, all right!' he snorted resentfully, his lip curling in disgust. 'But let me tell you one thing! You're better off without him, Harry! He hates you and wants nothing to do with you!'_

_'He hates me?' Harry whispered numbly._

_'Yes, he does!' Sirius replied through gritted teeth. 'Forget about him, Harry, for he will not ever give a damn about you. He's scum, trust me! Stick to the people that care about you instead. Find yourself a nice girl-'_

_'He hates me?' All color had drained from Harry's face. 'He knows that I exist, he knows that I'm his soulmate and he hates me?'_

_Sirius nodded._

* * *

Harry Potter sat in the middle of the cauldron pile behind Severus' desk, looking disheveled and rather flushed. A broomstick was lying to his feet. 

'Oops,' he said.

Severus could have sworn he felt his heart skipping a few beats. This _definitely_ wasn't the same moody teenager that had been sitting in his class only this morning! It was _him_!

_Future Harry_ chuckled sheepishly, got up, straightened his clothes and walked over to where Severus was still sitting at his desk, completely paralyzed. 'I have to work on that one, don't I?' he mused and plopped down on Severus' lap, straddling him like it was the most normal thing in the world. With a start Severus realized that, for Harry, it probably was.

He decided he liked the idea.

'I was playing Quidditch with a couple of third-years, but when I saw the open window up here, I decided they could do without me for a while and _you_ ... could do with my company!' Harry told him matter-of-factly (_'Like you have no idea!' _Severus thought) and completely oblivious to the fact that all the windows behind him were closed and that the Quidditch pitch was now a maze and lay deserted. Without further ado he started showering the older man's face with soft, feathery kisses. Severus' head lolled back on its own account and he closed his eyes.

_Sweet Merlin!_

Once again the future version of Harry Potter seemed utterly unaware of the fact that he had just time-jumped into Hogwarts' past. For a fleeting moment Severus contemplated telling him (the question of who _ever_ made it first through that blasted maze below was definitely burning on his tongue), but when he remembered the boy's breakdown during their previous encounter, he decided it was best to keep his mouth shut. The teacher felt slightly guilty for taking advantage of the situation like that, but when Harry turned his attention to an apparently over-sensitive patch of skin on Severus' throat that he hadn't even been aware of until the young man in his lap started sucking it gently, he forgot all sense of reason.

What good did it do to distress the boy?

When Harry's tongue flicked out for the first time, the Potions master was unable to suppress a moan.

'I take it this was one of my better ideas,' the Gryffindor whispered smugly. Severus felt him smile against his neck.

_'Brat!'_ he thought.

Harry's mouth left Severus' throat and slowly trailed upwards until they met in a chaste and gentle kiss. And another. And another - until Severus felt Harry's tongue moving across his lips playfully, demanding entrance. Their tongues found each other effortlessly.

Severus' hands slowly loosened their grip on his armrests. Cautiously – and ever so gently – he placed a hand on the small of Harry's back. When no objection followed, he daringly placed his other hand on Harry's neck, pulling him deeper into the kiss. The young man melted into his embrace. A wave of Harry's emotions – a breathtaking combination of lust, love and boundless trust - washed over Severus and mingled with his own need. Their kisses became more and more anxious, their breathing shallow. It didn't take long and Severus felt himself getting hard - a fact that didn't go unnoticed by Harry. A small sound of approval escaped the Gryffindor's throat and he wriggled on Severus' lap, eliciting a gasp from both men as their arousals met.

And then – as sudden and unexpectedly as he had turned up – Harry was gone.

…

Draco Malfoy's cauldron hit the wall with a reverberating clang as a very irritated, very heated and still very much aroused Severus Snape flung it across the room with all his might.

…

**_DAMN TEASE!_**

* * *

'Ladies and gentlemen, the third and final task of the Triwizard Tournament is about to begin …' 

The rest of Ludo Bagman's words were drowned out by loud cheers and applause coming from all around the Quidditch pitch.

Harry Potter looked up.

The wooden stands looked as though they were about to burst underneath the weight of the crowd. Every seat was taken and everybody was looking down on the four Triwizard champions, cheering them on excitedly. He could see Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Hermione and Ron waving at him and Harry forced a smile and waved back. His eyes traveled over the crowd.

_Is he here?_

Harry reckoned it was reasonable enough to think that his soulmate was someone at Hogwarts ('Draco hates you quite a bit, you know, it just might be him!' Ron had pointed out helpfully, snorting with laughter. He didn't really take the whole soulmate situation very serious at all.). Harry could count the people he knew outside of school on one hand. And even though they all pretty much hated Harry for breathing, they were less than likely to be his soulmates. Being family and all.

Harry sneered.

Oh, but it figured. His own _family_ hated his guts! It only made sense that his soulmate did, too.

The Dursleys were probably right.

He _was_ a freak.

Harry's fists clenched. His fingernails dug into the soft skin of his palms painfully, but he didn't notice. And when he heard the shrill sound of Ludo Bagman's whistle, Harry entered the maze without looking back.

**_To be continued_**


	7. Stark Raving Mad

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**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and I don't own these wicked little wizards as depressing as it is. Only Priya and Yulub are mine.  
This chapter contains pieces of dialogue directly taken from "The Order of the Phoenix" – don't sue!

* * *

Chapter 7  
"**Stark raving mad" **

He clutched the bottle as if he was holding on for dear life. With shaking fingers, magic momentarily forgotten, he uncorked the Firewisky and … found no glass to pour in within arm's reach. He barked something rather rude at his house-elf, who jumped (eyes larger than dinner plates), bowed and then disappeared with a pop. But when Yulub, the devoted house-elf of Snape Manor, returned less than thirty seconds later with a glass in her hand, the bottle of Firewisky was half-empty already.

And Yulub knew something was wrong.

She tiptoed over to where her master sat curled up on the floor and watched him tentatively, unsure of what to do. Yulub knew that in situations like this the common house-elf was to close their eyes _and_ their ears, quietly disappear and get on with whatever chores had to be done.

Somehow that seemed didn't seem the right thing to do.

Besides, Yulub took great pride in the fact that here at Snape Manor nobody treated her like a common house-elf. She was being treated like family. That was what other house-elves told her anyway - some with awe, some with envy, but most with great distaste.

Her master now took another large swig from the expensive brew. When he put the bottle down again, he stared at Yulub with a dull, clouded gaze that scared the elf greatly. Suddenly her beloved master cringed as if the weight of his own body had become too much to bear. And then he moaned. It was guttural sound, saturated with so much pain that it made Yulub's heart ache.

And that was when Yulub ran for help.

* * *

Harry Potter and his cousin Dudley Dursley stood only a few feet apart, illuminated by the moonlight that shone down the narrow alleyway. Both boys glared at each other with a look of utmost contempt - but that's where the similarities ended. Whereas Harry was a pale, rather small and so-skinny-it-looked-unhealthy boy with round spectacles and raven-black hair, Dudley was blonde, chubby, a head taller than Harry and anything but malnourished looking. His brand name jeans and sneakers looked neat, new and expensive. Harry's clothes were torn, dirty and several sizes too large. 

Dudley narrowed his eyes maliciously. 'Who _is _Cedric then? Your boyfriend?'

He snickered.

'Stop it, I'm warning you,' Harry said tonelessly.

'Cedric, oh Cedric!' Dudley wailed in a high-pitched voice. 'Cedric!'

'Dudley. Shut. Up.'

Dudley started rubbing his large chest and belly with his own hands. His eyes rolled back in his head and the tongue wriggled in and out of his open mouth. 'Oooh Cedric!' he squealed mockingly. 'Oh my God! CEDRIC!'

'SHUT UP!'

The bizarre expression of ecstasy on Dudley's face was now replaced by a cold sneer.

'Faggot!' he said.

Harry pointed his wand directly at his cousin's heart.

Fourteen years of loathing for the Dursleys (_'There's no such thing as magic!'_) mingled with self-disgust (_'He hates me!'_) and fused with the all the hatred he ever felt for Voldemort and his minions (_'And they just laughed!'_). The fatal combination surged through him forcefully, contaminating the magic in his veins, to concentrate in the tip of his wand.

Right then and there he wanted nothing but to hurt.

Anyone.

It took Harry a moment to realize that the sudden chill of the night did not come from the biting anger inside of him.

There was a Dementor in Little Whinging.

* * *

'It's the Cruciatus Curse!' was Priya's first thought when she saw Severus lying on the dining room floor. 

'Get Lucius!' she screamed at Yulub and the house-elf disappeared instantly.

Priya, a graceful woman in her fifties and of Indian descent, sank down beside the man she loved like her own son and cradled him in her arms. Severus clung to her tightly. His breathing came in short staccato gasps and his eyes seemed clouded with silent pain. She rocked him back and forth soothingly, whispering 'Hush, my dear, it's gonna be okay' and 'It's alright, Sev, I'm here.' - all those little things that meant everything and nothing at all.

'What's wrong?' Priya asked after a while, trying hard to keep the panic out of her voice. She kissed his head gently. Much to her relief, it didn't take long until Severus' breathing became steady and even again. His vision cleared and he sat up slowly.

'It's Harry,' he said. 'The bond is getting stronger.'

For a moment he thought Priya was going to cry. Tears sprung into her eyes and she brought her hands to her mouth quickly as if to hold back a scream. 'Oh, but Severus! That's wonderful!' she said at last, sounding jubilant.

Severus' smile didn't quite reach his eyes. 'He's so angry, Priya,' he answered quietly. 'So hurt. And so full of hate.'

He buried his face in his hands. 'Priya, what have I done? What _am_ I doing? This is all wrong! He's my mate! I'm supposed to protect him from all harm! Instead I've sent him straight into the arms of the Dark Lord.' His body tensed once more.

Priya took his hands in hers. 'You did NOT!' she said urgently. 'This is nobody's fault but Riddle's, Sev! Albus should have never let the child participate in that Tournament in the first place! Don't you blame yourself!'

Severus shook his head. 'I could have prevented this, Priya! If I had told Harry's future self about his time-jump, he could have told me about what happened that night!' he yelled. 'I could have stopped the Third Task from happening and Cedric Diggory would still be alive today!'

Suddenly the door burst open and Lucius Malfoy came striding in, Yulub at his heels. 'What's going on?' he asked as he saw Priya and Severus sitting on the floor.

As soon as Severus spotted his friend, his face grew livid with anger.

'YOU!' he roared, grabbed the bottle of alcohol next to him and hurled it towards the blonde, aristocratic looking man. It missed his head only just and collided with the wall behind him, where it shattered into a hundred pieces. Firewisky sprayed all over the wall. Lucius wasn't spared.

Lucius Malfoy never so much as flinched.

Calmly, he took out a handkerchief and dabbed his face and the few stains of liquid that were tainting his black robes. 'Oh really, Severus,' he drawled, sounding bored. 'Are you still harping on about-?'

Severus sprung to his feet, rushed forward and stopped only a few inches in front of the Blonde, looking ready to pounce. 'Harping?' he asked in a dangerously low voice. 'Harry could be dead now. He could have died and you wouldn't have cared. You would have just looked on!'

For the first time a hint of an emotion flickered over Lucius' face. 'You know that this is untrue, Severus,' he said. 'I did not just look on. If it wasn't for me, your dear Harry Potter would most probably dead now.'

Severus snorted. 'Oh please.'

Lucius Malfoy's exterior remained that of unconcerned calmness, but his piecing blue eyes were suddenly blazing. 'Do be fair, Severus!' he said. 'The Dark Lord's return came as much of a shock to me as it came to you. I did not know what to expect when I apparated to that graveyard. I did not know that Harry Potter would be there. I did not know! How many times do I have to tell you this?'

'HE COULD HAVE BEEN KILLED!' Severus bellowed, his eyes shimmering. Priya, who stood next to him, put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Lucius Malfoy nodded somberly. 'But he wasn't, Severus, he's still alive. I am not proud of what happened that night, but I did - not – just – look - on.' Lucius said, punctuating every word. 'I will admit that the boy is by far more talented and cunning than Draco ever let on …' He smiled. 'But there are only so many Death Eaters, only so many Killing Curses a fourteen year old wizard, no matter how powerful, can dodge. If the Dark Lord had realized about my counter spells, both Harry and I might well be dead now. But I'd do it again in a heartbeat, Severus.'

His face hardened and he hissed: 'Unlike _some_ people in your life I care about you! I would give my life for you, Severus Tobias Snape, and that means I would give my life for your soulmate as well. You know that this is _nothing_ but the truth.'

For a moment the two men looked at each other. Then, suddenly, Severus pulled the other man into a hug. 'Forgive me, my friend,' he whispered.

'It's quite alright,' Lucius replied calmly, patting the other man's shoulder swiftly before they let each other go. 'But allow me to say this much, Severus. I think it's time you forgot about that idiotic promise you gave that old fool. You can't hoodwink destiny! You've tried so hard to hate the child … and yet Potter has you now. Hook, line and sinker.' He smiled almost roguishly. 'How many more times will it require for your own future to sit on your lap and snog you senseless before you give in?'

Severus couldn't help but return a lopsided grin before turning serious once more.

'But the prophecy …' he started, but Lucius cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. 'Prophecies!' he spat. 'Are you really going to stand aside and let that Trelawney woman destroy both your life and that of the boy? _Sibyll Trelawney_, Severus, I'm asking you!'

'I gave Dumbledore my word, Lucius. I have to stay out of Harry's life,' replied Severus, never regretting the promise he once gave the Headmaster more than he did today.

'You may want to take your word back now, Severus,' a soft voice suddenly said from behind them.

A beautiful, delicate woman with long blonde hair just like Lucius' was standing in the doorframe, holding a piece of parchment in her hands. Severus recognized the red seal of the Ministry of Magic.

'Harry Potter has cast a Patronus,' Narcissa Malfoy said. 'They are going to destroy his wand.'

* * *

Severus felt decidedly out of place as he opened the little white gate to Privet Drive, number four, a few moments later. Muggle housings and the accompanying lack of magic in the air never seized to make him uncomfortable. Tonight though, the air around this particular house was charged with magic. 

Harry Potter was stark raving mad.

Severus' footsteps made odd crunching sounds as he walked over the tiny pebbles that led his way to the door. His path was illuminated only by the light behind one of the windows of the neat but impersonal looking Muggle building that was his soulmate's home.

He stopped dead in his track when he heard the yelling from inside the house.

'OUT! OUT! You've had it! You're history! You're not staying here if some loony's after you! You're not endangering my wife and son, you're not bringing trouble down on us! If you're going the same way as your useless parents, I've had it!'

Within seconds the perfect picture that Severus had painted of Harry Potter's family life for the past fourteen years, the one of doting and loving relatives, crumbled to dust. Every passing word that traveled past the closed windows of Privet Drive, number four, into the clear, starless night added to his disbelief and anger.

And to the realization that his decision to come here had been the right one.

* * *

'Get out and never darken our doorstep again! Why we ever kept you in the first place, I don't know, Marge was right, it should have been the orphanage. GET OUT OF OUR SIGHT, YOU FREAK!' 

Harry Potter had enough.

He crumpled Dumbledore's letter that warned him not to leave the house and flung it from him angrily. It bounced off his uncle's sweaty forehead and landed on the kitchen floor.

'FINE!' Harry bellowed. He brushed past his relatives, who gaped after him stupidly, and out of the kitchen. Clutching his wand in one hand, he strode down the narrow hallway and flung open the front door. 'I'm leaving, all ri-!'

Open-mouthed he stared at the person standing on the other side of the doorframe.

A wave of emotions washed over Harry, so sudden and with such a force, that his knees gave away and he had to cling to the door for support.

_/ He wanted to tear open his face / He wanted to weep at his feet / What took you so long / He wanted to jinx him senseless / He wanted to throw himself into his arms / Take me home / He wanted to 'Crucio' him / He wanted to be picked up and carried away / What took you so long / He wanted to never see him again / He wanted to never let go / Take me home / What took you so long /_

'Professor Snape!' Harry said.

Then: 'IF YOU THINK I'M GOING TO STAY HERE FOR JUST ONE SECOND LONGER YOU BETTER THINK AGAIN, SIR, FOR I'VE HAD IT UP TO HERE! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF ALL OF THIS! I'M NOT SOME STUPID LITTLE CHILD ANYMORE AND I'M NOT JUST GONNA WATCH THEM TAKE AWAY MY W-'

'Get your things,' Severus said.

Harry swallowed. 'What?'

'You want to get out of here? Then get your things and come with me.'

Harry blinked. 'Come with you _where_, sir?'

The expression of Severus Snape's face was unfathomable. 'Home,' he said.

Harry didn't move.

Severus shrugged. 'If you want to wait for the Ministry …' He turned around and started to leave.

'WAIT!'

Severus waited.

'Give me two minutes!' Harry said.

'You've got one,' said Severus.

**_To be continued_**


	8. Where the Heart is

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and I don't own Harry Potter. Or Severus. Or Draco.  
Excuse me while I go jump off the Astronomy Tower.

* * *

Chapter 8  
**"Where the Heart is" **

Harry didn't think Apparating would ever make it on his Top Three list of "favorite ways to travel". Resisting the urge to push his streaming eyes back into their sockets, he blinked rapidly a few times before looking around. He and Snape were standing at the bottom of a rather steep hill. Right in front of them the grass was divided by a massive stony stairway. The steps were lit by dozens of torches that were floating midair in intervals on either side, so that he was able to see all the way up to the large mansion looming above them.

'You can let go of my hands now, Potter.'

There was definitely something funny about Snape's voice tonight, but only now Harry was finally able to grasp what it was.

For the first time Harry's last name didn't quite sound like an Unforgivable Curse coming from Snape's mouth. There was a profound deficiency of spite in the way his Potions master adressed him tonight, even despite the fact that, right now, Harry was all but crushing his hands in his. Surely Snape didn't feel sorry about what had happened to Harry tonight? He wouldn't care less if Harry's wand was destroyed, would he? Surely he hadn't grown a heart all of a su …

…

Oh.

Right.

Snape's hands.

He was still holding them.

…

Harry dropped Severus Snape's hands as though he had just been burned.

'SorryProfessorthisisprobablynotmyfavoritewaytotravel.'

He blushed spectacularly.

_Articulate, Potter._

For a second Harry was sure he saw the ghost of a smile appear on Snape's face, but a moment later the man turned away from him.

'Follow me.'

They began climbing up the stairs in silence. Harry's trunk was levitating to his right, floating along to the casual conduction of Snape's wand and Harry was glad he only had to carry Hedwig's empty cage ('Let your owl free, she will find you.') up this ridiculously long flight of stairs. As they trudged higher and higher, framed by the crackling torches that painted their path with ever-changing pictures of shadow and light, Harry began wondering just what on earth had gotten into him, following his Potions master like some dense little puppy. 

_Snape could still be a Death Eater. Never liked the man. Never trusted him either. Why on earth trust him now? Going with Snape might well be the worst decision of my life. My last one, too. These bloody stairs could be leading straight into Voldemort's den. And these torches, honestly! How very melodramatic! Straight out of a very bad Muggle horror movie. I don't trust you. No sir, I don't trust you at all. _

And yet he did.

A little bit.

'Professor?' Harry said finally, resolutely breaking the silence. A hundred and one questions were burning on his tongue.

_Why did you come and get me? Why are you being so civil tonight? Has somebody put you under an Imperius Curse? Have you put _me _under an Imperius Curse? Is this your house? For how long am I supposed to stay?_

Harry settled for:

'Why didn't we Apparate right in front of the House?'

'Magical wards,' replied Snape.

'_Paranoid, are we?_' Harry thought. 'Oh,' Harry said.

And that was that.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was bored. 

He turned off the television and after a flick of his unregistered hence illegal wand, the wall behind the TV slid open soundlessly, swallowed the impressive Hi-Fi Tower and shut again, leaving Draco's room flawlessly and perfectly muggle-invention-free.

He had a reputation to loose after all.

(The bag of Peanut Butter M&Ms wasn't counting. Those were just too bloody good even for a wizard to ignore.)

For a while Draco stared around his room, contemplating what to do next, when his gaze fell upon the _Book of Forbidden Charms_ (not exactly legal either) on his bedside table. He _really_ ought to return it to his godfather!

That would be the perfect opportunity to charm some of her splendid chocolate cookies out of Priya. Not literally, of course.

Draco Malfoy was a gentleman after all.

Maybe Severus was in the mood for a game of wizard chess? Or he could always do a bit of good-natured "Bullying Yulub, the House-Elf around" instead.

… Summer holidays were too bloody long, what without a few susceptible Gryffindors to tantalize …

* * *

Lucius Malfoy looked up from the stack of papers on the desk in front of him. 

'Draco,' he greeted his son appreciatively. 'Good evening. Come on in.'

'Hello father!' Draco said. 'I just wanted to hop over to Sev's and return this book.'

He waved the Charms book around once for demonstration and stepped in front the fireplace on his father's left.

'Draco …,' Lucius held him back, but then he stopped as if contemplating what to say next. Draco looked at him expectantly. 'Yes, Dad?'

Lucius smiled with a small shake of his head. 'Nothing. Ask Priya for a few of those delightful cookies, will you?'

Draco grinned. 'Certainly.'

He thrust a handful of floo powder into the flames, that suddenly started blazing emerald green, and stepped inside.

'Snape Manor!' he called out … and vanished.

* * *

An Indian woman opened the door as soon as Severus and Harry stepped on the veranda. She greeted them with a warm smile. 'There you are!' 

'Priya, this is Harry Potter,' said Professor Snape and once more Harry found himself thinking that his Potions teacher sounded decidedly off-color today. 'Potter, this is Priya.'

Without further ado the woman pulled Harry into a bone-crushing hug. 'I'm so glad to see you, Harry.'

As Priya continued to fuss over a very embarrassed Harry Potter ('Look at you! What a good-looking young man you are! But so thin! I'll feed you up, sweetheart, don't you worry.'), Professor Snape walked passed them, carrying Harry's trunk into the house. Harry saw that he was rolling his eyes. But he was smiling.

Snape was actually smiling.

_Somebody call the Aurors._

* * *

True to her word, the next thing Priya did was to steer Harry towards the kitchen. 

'No arguing,' she said sternly, dismissing Harry's entirely unconvincing attempts to tell her that he really wasn't hungry at all.

As Harry was gently pushed across the Entrance Hall of Snape Manor, he looked around interestedly. This was a very nice house. Friendly, clean, spacious, inviting … completely _un-Snape-ish_, really. Harry had never bothered to think much about his Professor's "life outside school" and now he realized he had simply assumed that Hogwarts' teachers didn't have one. He had always pictured them living at Hogwarts day in, day out with no private life whatsoever. Harry started to feel a bit ashamed of his small-mindedness. Priya pushed open the door to the kitchen.

Harry thought it was a lovely kitchen. A lovely kitchen with one great, big drawback.

Draco Malfoy was sitting in it.

* * *

Draco dropped the chocolate cookie unceremoniously into his glass of milk. 

'POTTER!'

He gawked.

Harry checked the room for emergency exits and saw there were none.

'Malfoy,' he said resignedly. 'What a nice surprise.'

They grimaced at each other.

Priya pulled out a chair from under the counter in the middle of the kitchen that Draco was sitting at. 'Sit down, sweetheart,' she said to Harry. 'I'll fix you up some dinner.'

Draco's eyes grew large. 'Sweetheart?' he mouthed.

Harry climbed on the chair opposite Draco and watched as Priya walked around to the Slytherin, ruffled his silver-blonde hair and planted a kiss on top of his head before proceeding to take down a few of the pans that were hanging on the wall behind Draco. Somehow Harry doubted you got away with messing up Draco Malfoy's perfectly groomed hair unscathed. Or kissing him in public for that matter. He braced himself for the tantrum that would surely follow now, but Draco merely ran a hand through his hair and grinned, looking decidedly unembarrassed.

Harry began wondering if Snape's Apparition hadn't accidentally transferred him into a parallel universe.

'Now!' Draco said. 'Will somebody please tell me what on earth _he_ is doing here?'

* * *

Severus Snape turned on his heels when he heard his godson's voice from behind the kitchen door. 

_Let Priya answer that question. __Let Priya deal with keeping the two teenagers away from each other's throats, too._

All but tiptoeing away from the kitchen, Severus crossed the Entrance Hall and began climbing the stairs to his bedroom on the first floor, when he heard a soft chuckle above him. He raised his head and found himself looking into familiar green eyes that gleamed with amusement. Harry Potter stood leaning over the balustrade of the gallery on the first floor, his two hands folded casually.

'Not in the mood for Volume two hundred and ten of "Draco Malfoy's and Harry Potter's teenage feud", are you?' he smiled.

Severus tried to keep the derailment of his facial expression to a minimum level.

_Future Harry. _

Slowly he continued his way upstairs, his eyes never leaving the young man above him.

'Harry,' he said cautiously. 'Do you know that you are …'

'Waltzing around the past again? Yeah, I know.' Harry shrugged. 'It was hard not to notice it this time, watching myself walk through the door and all.'

Severus had reached the landing. Harry straightened up and looked at him expectantly. 'Hi there!' he said softly.

'Hi,' Severus replied, sounding rather hoarse. He looked down at … _my husband_ … Harry, feeling very self-conscious all of a sudden. Was he allowed to touch him? Did Harry _expect_ him to kiss him?

As if he had been able to read Severus' mind, Harry stepped up to him, closing the distance between them. He tugged on Severus' robes almost nervously. 'Are you gonna kiss me or what?' he whispered.

Severus cupped the young man's face in his hands. But instead of kissing Harry, he said: 'I am so sorry.'

Harry frowned. 'Sorry?'

'For not telling you about your time-jump last time. We could've stopped Voldemort. Forgive me!'

'It's okay, Sev. I don't want to talk about this anymore,' Harry said quietly. 'I have thrown enough tantrums already. You will get your fair share of verbal abuse over this whole incident soon enough, from the other me that's sitting in your kitchen right now, trust me.'

Severus nodded. 'I can imagine.'

'Now, about that kiss …?' Harry said. Severus didn't need another reminder. He bent down and softly captured Harry's lips with his own, pulling the boy closer into his embrace. Harry moaned into their kiss contentedly before breaking it. 'Bedroom!' he gasped. 'I really don't fancy Draco's and my "mini-me version" walking in on us making out.'

Severus blanched.

_Bedroom? Making out?_

Harry laughed. 'It's okay, Sev,' he said teasingly, pushing Severus along the hallway. 'We have done this before, you know.'

'If you say so,' Severus growled.

But he didn't protest when Harry pushed him into his bedroom, locking the door behind them firmly …

* * *

The misty fog thickened until the two figures inside the crystal ball became blurry and finally disappeared altogether. 

Albus Dumbledore leaned back in his chair, his two hands forming a crooked triangle in front of his mouth.

'Time-traveling!' he spoke into the silence of his office. 'That's a very impressive ability indeed, young Mister Potter.'

There was a curt knock on his office door and Professor McGonagall stepped inside, looking tense.

'Albus,' she said, wringing her hands. 'Potter, he's gone!'

'Gone?' the Headmaster echoed, his own hands dropping back onto the desk. 'But I told Petunia …'

'Apparently Harry had already left Privet Drive, number four ,when your Howler arrived.' Minerva McGonagall informed him. 'He's not at The Burrow! But the members of the Order are already looking for him everywhere.'

'All of them?' Dumbledore asked.

'All with the exception of Severus,' Minerva replied. 'We haven't been able to contact him yet.'

'I see.' Albus Dumbledore glanced down at the crystal ball in front of him for a long time.

'I think you will find the boy as soon as you've located Severus,' he spoke at last, the shadow of a smile tugging at his lips.

'Severus? But …'

'I have a feeling Severus is not too happy with our little arrangement anymore,' replied the Headmaster calmly.

McGonagall looked puzzled. 'Arrangement? You mean … about Potter? About _staying away _from Potter?'

'That's what I mean.'

'But … Severus doesn't even like the child. I have always been under the impression that his dislike for Potter was sincere and not just part of your agreement.'

'Oh, I'm sure it was,' Albus said with a wistful smile, looking into the empty crystal ball once more. 'But apparently Harry Potter will soon decide to take matters in his own hands.'

**_To be continued_**


	9. Small Steps

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer:**

I'm not J.K. Rowling and I don't own anything or anyone in the Harry Potter universe. I just get a kick out of playing with them.  
Priya is all mine although she is based on / inspired by the amazing, legendary Bollywood actress Jaya Bachan.

* * *

Chapter 9  
**"Small steps" **

A mop of raven-black hair was tickling under his nose and his right arm was slowly growing numb. Severus Snape had never been more comfortable in his life.

His arm now started prickling in protest as Harry shifted slightly and for a moment Severus held his breath, afraid that the future would reclaim the young man in his arms already. But Harry merely snuggled closer and buried his face in the nape of Severus' neck almost fiercely. Severus tightened his embrace.

'I'm an old fool, aren't I?' he asked.

'For not pounding me into the mattress, you mean?'

Severus felt the Gryffindor's impish grin of as much as he heard it.

'Yes, Potter, that's what I mean,' he said dryly.

Harry raised his head and looked at the Potions master smugly. 'Well, _I_ am perfectly fine with it, Severus. Unlike _some_ people in this room, _I_ can simply go back into my own time, drag my husband into this very bedroom, onto this very bed and …' He leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially: '… fuck the daylights out of him.'

Severus _refused_ to blush.

Harry began studying his fingernails nonchalantly. 'Whereas _someone _I know …,' (It was obvious he had a hard time keeping a straight face) '… has to wait I-won't-tell-you-how-long until the young and dare I say terribly innocent Harry Potter down there will let him take his virginity at last.'

Severus would _not_ blush, period!

Harry on the other hand blushed enough for both of them as his composed façade finally crumbled. 'I can't believe I just said that!' he snorted, briefly hiding his face in his hands.

'Why, I'm shocked indeed, Potter,' smirked Severus approvingly. 'Who would've thought you were such a lewd … sex maniac.'

Harry looked at him with wide eyes. 'Why Severus!' he said with mock innocence. 'I learned it all from you.'

'The hell you did,' Severus grumbled underneath a smile and brushed a strand of hair from Harry's forehead. Then he became serious. 'You understand why I don't want to sleep with you, don't you?'

Harry nodded earnestly. 'You want to sow your wild oats all over the place before you're forced to settle down with me.'

The mere thought of so much as looking at someone else made Severus sick to his stomach. Harry laughed at the exasperated expression on the older man's face. 'Of course I understand, Sev! You want _my_ first time to be _our_ first time. And that's …,' he grinned cheekily, '… very honorable, Professor.'

Harry kissed Severus' shoulder tenderly before resting his head on it.

'I'm not going to be able to keep up this chaste act for long, you insufferable little imp, am I?' Severus said, trying hard to sound miserable.

'I won't tell!' Harry sing-songed.

A grin spread on Severus' face. He didn't remember the last time he had ever enjoyed himself the way he did now. Thinking about it, he had _never_ enjoyed himself like this before. Who would have thought that bantering and bickering with Harry Potter could be so much fun?

_Soulmates!_

Suddenly overcome with emotion, he pressed a forceful kiss on Harry's head and whispered: 'I wish you never had to leave!'

Harry sat up and looked at him intently. 'But I am _him_, Severus!' he said after a long moment and pointed to the bedroom floor, into the approximate direction of the kitchen downstairs.

Severus was puzzled. 'I know, but …!'

'Don't forget it!' Harry told him urgently. 'Don't forget to care about _him _as well! He is me and he needs you! Trust me, I know what I'm talking about.' He didn't smile. 'Even if I should never travel back into time again, I will always be here! If you want to see me … look at _him_. I _am_ him. We are the same person!'

'Harry, I know that!' Severus sat up as well. 'I know!'

'But you have to _understand_ it, too!' Harry said seriously. 'I know that you don't love me … _him_ … yet. And if I remember correctly,' -now he did smile slightly -'I didn't quite love you yet either back then. But I will. Soon enough! I mean, I do, but … oh, screw it! You know what I mean!'

'So did I do the right thing, bringing you here?'

'Yes.'

'Did I ever tell you why …?' Severus' voice trailed off.

'Why you've been such an arsw all these years?' Harry offered helpfully. 'Yes, you did.'

'And-?'

'No more questions, Severus!' Harry interrupted him, shaking his head. 'We're messing around with the future enough the way things are.'

'But-'

'Professor Snape?'

'Potter?'

'Shut up and kiss me.'

* * *

Priya had seen Harry Potter's picture many times before. 

She had laughed at how his unwilling photographed self was always trying to scurry out of view on the Daily Prophet's front page and she had marveled over his unsuspecting, innocent face - sometimes drawn, sometimes snapped - in various History books that dealt with the miracle of "The Boy Who Lived". But now she saw that none of the pictures had ever even remotely captured Harry's true beauty.

He was as cute as a button. And completely unaware of it, too.

While Priya hurriedly (she knew a hungry boy when she saw one!) made some dinner for Harry, she couldn't resist watching him out of the corner of her eyes.

The Gryffindor looked around the kitchen with unconcealed curiosity, his eyes traveling anywhere but towards Draco, who sat on the other side of the counter, observing Harry with equally unconcealed distrust. But whereas Draco had the unperturbed air of someone who had every right to be where he was, Harry seemed rather uncomfortable in his own skin. His shoulders were hunched as if he was cold and his hands were curled tightly around the excess material of his way-too-long shirtsleeves. His left foot wiggled rapidly on the top-bar of his stool, which made him look jumpy and on constant alert - which he probably was.

But Priya was sure that would change soon. She would _see to it_ that it changed soon!

Oh, how she had been waiting for this day; the moment Harry Potter would step foot into their home for the first time.

_His_ home.

She remembered clearly the day when the fifteen year old Severus had confided in her for the first time, telling her about the dreams and visions that were troubling him. How disturbed he had been by his repeated dreams of a black-haired boy with alabaster skin, that he had believed to be his classmate James Potter back then. When Priya told him about the existence of soulmates, he had been excited to finally have an explanation for his constant dreams, but crushed at the prospect of being bonded to someone he didn't even like.

Neither he nor Priya had expected the bond to be of such enormous strength, that the mere presence of Harry's parents James Potter and Lily Evans had been enough to activate Severus' awareness of his future mate long before his soulmate was even born - a case so extreme and rare that it was only scarcely documented in literature.

And when Severus had told her about his deal with the Headmaster years later, Priya had not been worried. If the bond between Severus and Harry was strong enough to literally defy time, it would be able to withstand the meddling of a few opposing, delusional individuals as well.

And it seemed she had been right. Harry Potter was sitting in their kitchen now, was he not?

The boy's eyes glazed over as she placed a laden plate full with scrambled eggs, toast and roast potatoes in front of him. He gazed at her almost suspiciously; as if he needed confirmation that he was indeed allowed to eat all that was on the plate and not just look at it.

Priya nodded encouragingly. ''Eat, sweetheart! And just so you know, no one is ever leaving this kitchen without second helpings. Right, Draco?'

'That's right ma'am!' Draco saluted around a mouthful of chocolate cookies.

When Harry seemed convinced that nobody would snatch the food away from him again, he began piling his fork enthusiastically, eating with rapid speed. 'I guess I'm hungry after all,' he acknowledged with a small, embarrassed grin as he noticed Priya's knowing smile and Draco's look of astonishment.

'No kidding,' the Slytherin murmured, pouring himself another glass of milk. Then he got up and took another glass from the cupboard, which he poured with milk as well. After that, he wordlessly placed the glass in front of Harry and sat back down. Harry promptly choked on his food and started coughing.

Draco rolled his eyes.

Priya quickly bit her lips to hide a smile. One small step for a Malfoy, one giant leap …

Just then the doorbell rang and Draco attempted to get up from his chair once more, but Priya put a hand on his shoulder.

'I'll get it, dear. You stay and keep Harry some company.'

* * *

As Priya made her way across the Entrance Hall, she heard murmuring voices from behind one of the closed doors on the first floor. She stopped to listen. Laughter pearled down the stairs, engulfing her. Priya closed her eyes and smiled. 

A bond strong enough to defy time indeed.

The second ring of the bell reminded her of her original task and Priya continued her way to the door.

A man stood outside. She immediately recognized him as a werewolf. He wore patched up robes and looked a little under the weather, which must have been due to the fact that full moon was approaching quickly. Yet he was an undoubtedly handsome and kind-looking man, his gaze open and friendly. A large black dog was sitting next to him.

'Good evening,' the werewolf now said politely. 'My name is Remus Lupin. I'm a … friend … of Severus Snape. We were wondering if it might be possible to talk to him for a minute.' He looked at her expectantly.

'I'm very sorry, but Severus is not home at the moment,' Priya lied unblinkingly. 'And I'm not sure when he will be back. Can I take a message?'

The dog barked once. Lupin quickly put a hand on his neck. 'Yes, please,' he answered. 'Tell him the Order needs his assistance in a rather urgent matter. Tell him … tell him it's about Harry. Harry Potter.'

Priya nodded. 'Harry Potter. I will tell him as soon as he comes back.'

'Thank you! Good bye.'

They smiled at each other and Priya closed the door again.

* * *

Even though Priya's food was simply delicious, Harry had never felt so self-conscious about the simple act of raising a fork towards his mouth before. Did Priya _really_ have to go and leave him alone with Malfoy? That _was_ a bit rude, wasn't it? 

Draco on the other hand didn't seem to feel awkward at all. Although he was unusually quiet, he was eying Harry like a hawk, watching his every move suspiciously. Not that Harry could blame him. If Draco had suddenly turned up at the Dursleys … He grinned at the thought.

'What's so funny, Potter?' Draco shot out at once.

'I was just imagining _my_ face if you had suddenly shown up at my aunt and uncle's house.'

For a moment Draco seemed stunned and Harry wasn't sure if it was because the Slytherin hadn't expected a civil, honest answer instead of the usual biting retort from him, or simply because the mere idea of a Malfoy in a muggle household was an insult to him. Probably both.

Then, Draco wrinkled his nose. 'Fat chance!' he sneered.

'Exactly,' Harry nodded and returned his attention to his plate.

Wasn't it way past Malfoy's bedtime already anyway? Didn't he have things to do? Old ladies to terrorize and small children to frighten or something?

But Draco seemed to have all the time in the world. 'So what did you do that they want to destroy your wand for, Potter?' he wanted to know, popping another cookie into his mouth.

'I cast a Patronus.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Honestly Potter! Have you no style? If you're so desperate to impress your mudblood girlfriend Granger, at least don't get yourself caught.'

_If I shove my wand up his nose, could that be considered self-defense? It worked alright with the Troll!_

But Harry was spared the necessity (and Draco the agony) of finding out, when Priya returned to the kitchen. 'Do you want some more, darling? Or some desert maybe?' she asked Harry.

'No thanks!' Harry said sincerely. 'I'm full, honestly. It was _so_ good, thank you!'

Priya smiled. 'What about you, Draco? Some desert?'

Draco shook his head. 'I'm all set!' he grinned, stuffing yet another cookie into his mouth.

'Very well,' Priya said. 'I guess it's time I showed Harry his room then. You must be tired by now, sweetheart.' She looked at Harry fondly.

Sleep was the last thing on Harry's mind, but anything to get away from Malfoy!

'I kind of am actually,' he answered, faking a stifled yawn.

* * *

Harry woke up the next morning, feeling refreshed and completely rested for the first time in weeks. Looking back, he suspected to have fallen asleep as soon as his head hit the pillows last night, despite his conviction that he'd surely _never_ be able to find sleep under Snape's roof. He must have slept like a log, too, remembering absolutely no nightmares or waking up even once. 

_Small miracles and all that._

He jumped out of the bed and jogged over to the door, the sound of his feet swallowed by the soft carpet underneath. He opened the door only far enough to peak outside, to hear if anyone else (preferably Priya) was already up. Immediately the enticing smell of … _coffee and pancakes?_ … Breakfast drifted into the room and was, much to Harry's indignant disbelief, promptly answered by a low rumble in his stomach.

Seriously, one couldn't be that hungry _all_ the time!

In record time he showered, got dressed, attempted (and quickly gave up) to tame his hair and went downstairs. He stopped in front of the kitchen door and knocked tentatively.

'Come in.'

_Oh._

Professor Snape.

For a second Harry contemplated turning around and going back to bed, but then he remembered that he was a Gryffindor.

Gryffindors were supposed to be brave.

Taking a deep breath, Harry stepped inside the kitchen.

* * *

Snape looked up from the Daily Prophet. 'Morning, Potter!' he said, putting the paper aside.

'Good morning, sir,' answered Harry stiffly, suddenly painfully aware of how foolish he must look in his oversized red sweater and the patched up blue jeans, that were so long they were torn in the end, because he was constantly stepping on the hem with his peeling sneakers. Why did he have to be such a slob?

If Snape agreed with this sentiment, he didn't show it. He gestured towards the empty plate opposite his own. 'Sit down, Potter,' he said. 'Pancakes will be ready in a minute.'

When Harry hesitated, he raised his eyebrows. 'Don't you like pancakes?'

'I do!' Harry said quickly and climbed on his chair.

'Milk, juice, tea … ?' his teacher now offered while pouring a dollop of milk into his own coffee cup. Then he began stirring and looked up at Harry questioningly.

Harry, who had yet to get used again to be given a choice during meals, gulped nervously. 'Erm …,' he said, annoyed at how small his voice sounded suddenly, '… could I have some coffee, too, please?'

Snape nodded and poured him a cup of coffee. 'Help yourself,' he said, pointing towards the cream and sugar that stood on the table between them. Then he got up and went over to the stove. Harry watched as his Potions master transferred not one but a whooping number of ten pancakes out of the frying pan and onto an empty plate. It was moments like this that always reminded Harry of just how cool it was to be a wizard.

_Simple pleasures._

Snape returned to the table and piled a generous amount of those magical pancakes on Harry's plate, seemingly deaf to his feeble protests ('No really, that's enough!'), before he served himself a pancake and sat back down. They ate in silence.

When he was done, Severus pushed his empty plate away from him and picked up the Daily Prophet once more.

Harry, now on pancake number three, studied the front and back page of the newspaper, not so much out of interest as convenience, not really having anything else to look at, when a certain headline caught his eye.

XXX

_**MISTERY BURGLAR BAFFLES MINISTRY ONCE MORE**_

_Last night the Ministry of Magic has once more fallen victim to the mysterious Burglar in what is now the third break-in in two months. As an anonymous source has informed the Daily Prophet, apparently nothing was stolen this time either._

"_He comes and goes unnoticed. We have no idea how he gets around our security wards, but the fact that he does shows he must be a very powerful wizard. What baffles us is that it's always just this one room he's after. He doesn't steal anything - mind you, there's nothing he could possibly steal - but he's vandalizing it."_

_When asked for further information, our source became apparently fearful.  
_"_I can not speak to you about what's inside this room, but it seems as though our burglar is trying to destroy whatever it is. And if you ask me, sooner or later he will be successful. And then … God help us all!"_

XXX

For a while Harry amused himself with thinking up the most gruesome, unthinkable things that could possibly be hidden inside said room in the Ministry of Magic, when he heard the kitchen door being pushed open. Expecting Priya, Harry turned in his chair with a smile. It faltered when he saw Draco Malfoy striding into the room, carrying a broomstick over his right shoulder.

_Doesn't he have a home?_

'Good Morning!' Draco announced briskly.

_It was. Until you turned up._

Draco either didn't sense Harry's animosity or he didn't care (Harry strongly suspected the latter). He placed something right next to Harry's now empty plate. Harry looked down and saw it was a Snitch.

'I'm bored,' Draco informed him. 'Let's go play.'

**_To be continued_**


	10. True Colors

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and I don't own anything in the Harry Potter universe.

**Author's Note:  
**It has been mentioned that my Draco is "slightly out of character" _:winks at Tamyka:._ Well, I most definitely agree! _:beams:_ I am portraying Draco the way I think he _could_ be if Jo would give him a chance. I know Mrs. Rowling begs to differ, but I am very fond of the character of Draco Malfoy and I believe there's much more to him than "the evil little Slytherin". And so what if that's all Tom Felton's fault ;-)?

* * *

Chapter 10  
**"True Colors" **

That day a ritual was established on Snape Manor.

At half past eight Harry would go down into the kitchen, where Snape (Priya was never present for some reason) was already sitting at the breakfast table, reading the paper. Upon Harry's entering and after a polite exchange of good mornings, Snape would put the newspaper away, pour them both a cup of coffee and serve breakfast. They would eat in amicable silence and when he was done, Snape would split the paper, hand over one half (sports and comics) to Harry and resume reading the other. They didn't talk much, but their silence was never an uncomfortable one, Harry felt. Occasionally they would discuss an article they had just read or disparage Rita Skeeter in diplomatic unison. Harry was forced to admit that Snape's dry sense of humor could be pretty damn hilarious - if you weren't the one on the receiving end. As it was, he enjoyed it immensely not to be the butt of Snape's sarcasm … too often.

At 9:30 sharp Draco would come waltzing in ('Good morning!') and order Harry to keep him company. Harry would protest exactly twice, which Draco would, of course, ignore.

'_I'm bored, let's play chess.'  
_'_I don't like chess.'  
_'_Don't be ridiculous. Let's go.'  
_'_No.'  
_'_Move!'  
_'_Oh, alright.'_

…

'_I'm bored, let's go and practice charms.'  
_'_We're not allowed to do magic outside of school.'  
_'_Your point?'  
_'_I don't want to.'  
_'_Come on!'  
_'_Oh, alright.'_

Before giving in and following the Slytherin out of the kitchen (all the while mumbling in rebellion), Harry would ask Snape if he wanted him to clean the table first, but the teacher would always decline and warn them to be back in time for lunch - or else! -, which usually left Harry stuttering something along the lines of 'yes sir, good-bye sir!' before rushing outside.

By the third day Harry found he was enjoying his new daily routine immensely, although he became more and more convinced that he _had_ indeed entered a parallel universe. How else was it to be explained that the presence of the two people he had once disliked the most, had now become … well … entirely tolerable?

Truth be told, he was having a blast!

Maybe it was the air at Snape Manor, maybe there was something in the water … but both, Draco and Snape, seemed to be practically _sociable_ during these holidays.

Granted, Malfoy was still as obnoxious as they came, but once you learned not to take him too seriously, he was really rather entertaining. Harry had quickly realized that Draco's bossiness (pretty much like Hermione's, really) was nothing but a habit and usually left room for compromises – if only you were persistent enough. Outside of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy was still a spoiled brat, a snob and nauseatingly competitive, but one thing he was clearly not: malicious.

Harry and Draco would usually roam the grounds of Snape Manor until noon (1 o' clock sharp – or else!), when they would return to the house to have lunch with Priya and Professor Snape. After that Draco would sometimes go home ('See you tomorrow, Potter!' – 'Do you have to?'), but usually the two of them would waste another hour arguing about what to do and where to go next before disappearing outside once more.

But it was the evenings Harry had come to enjoy the most. After dinner Professor Snape, Priya and him would retire into the sitting room (occasionally joined by Yulub, the house-elf), where they usually sat by the fireplace, drank tea and read one of the many books in the library or talk about their days.

Harry would never say much, but he could listen to Priya and his Potions teacher for hours, discussing tomorrow's menu, potion ingredients that needed replenishing or what on Merlin's Beard to do with the untamed orchid that was happily wreaking havoc in the greenhouse. Harry loved those peaceful moments!

They made him forget.

While Harry always enjoyed his visits at The Burrow, they were also a constant reminder of the home he didn't have. The parents he didn't have, the brothers and sisters he didn't have … the _family_ he was stuck with instead. He loved the Weasleys dearly, but he couldn't help feeling even more like an outsider when he was with them … and Harry didn't think that had anything to do with the fact that he was the only non-redhead around either.

At Snape Manor things were a little different. He wasn't constantly reminded of what a _freak_ he was, what a sorry orphan, or the hero he was supposed to be.

He was … _just Harry_.

Nobody was putting on a show to give him "The Nicest Holidays Ever", but he didn't feel as though his existence was merely tolerated either. In fact he didn't even feel much like a guest anymore.

Here at Snape Manor Harry felt like a part of something.

* * *

'Professor?' 

Severus peered over the rim of his morning paper questioningly, but Harry was bent over "his" half of the Prophet attentively and didn't look at him.

'Potter?' Severus voiced his reply.

'What do you think is in that room at the Ministry that they always break in?' Harry wanted to know.

Severus shrugged. 'I have no idea, Potter. But I certainly hope they manage to steal it or destroy it or whatever it is they want to do with it anytime soon to make room for more informative articles again for a change.'

At that Harry looked up at him, his eyebrows raised dubiously.

A few seconds of silence passed.

'Quite a change indeed, mind.' Severus deadpanned and Harry giggled. 'No kidding.'

He proceeded to read the article on the latest Ministry break-in and Severus went back to read his own with a smile. He relished the feeling of contentment that Harry had begun to radiate in his presence. Although one clearly didn't have to be a Legilimens to see that Harry was doing well.

Sporting a light tan, the Gryffindor looked healthier than Severus could ever remember seeing him. Not only had the boy finally gained a few much-needed pounds courtesy of Priya's excellent cooking, but he had also shed his trademark fidgetiness almost completely. The tense air that usually surrounded him was gone and most times Harry seemed relaxed and at ease with the world. The fact that he hadn't asked Severus even once about when he was supposed to leave this house was indication enough that the youth was enjoying his life at Snape Manor.

Severus suppressed a sigh with difficulty.

He knew that telling Harry would be the right thing to do, but he just didn't have the heart to inform the teenager that he was supposed to leave Snape Manor tomorrow already. In fact Severus didn't even want to acknowledge it himself, although he had always known that these two weeks with Harry was borrowed time only.

* * *

**A few days earlier.**

_This was it. The moment of truth._

_Sitting in Dumbledore's office, waiting for the Headmaster's arrival, Severus was hit with an overwhelming sense of déjà vu. How many times had he been sitting in this office as a Hogwarts student, twisting his hands in his lap impatiently just like he did now, waiting for yet another sermon along the lines of "We shall not use magic to our advantage!" or "The proper use of a Confusing Concoction during Potions Class."_

_Today the sermon would be more along the lines of "We shall not steal Harry Potter from his guardians' house without notifying the Order first", of course._

_But this time Severus would stand his ground, yes he would._

_This time Severus had done the right thing after all._

_But no matter how hard the Slytherin tried to convince himself that disobeying Dumbledore's orders to stay out of Harry Potter's life had been the right thing to do, he couldn't help fearing that standing eye to eye with the Headmaster, would most probably dissolve his newfound resolution to let his and Harry's destiny run its natural course into thin air – as shameful as it was._

_For over a decade he had been drilled to not care about Harry James Potter. Hell, he had forgotten to care about himself! For as long as he could remember, Severus had been disciplined to make do with the backseat of life. He would give his life for Harry without a second thought, but he doubted he was man enough to give his whole heart just yet._

_But damn him if he didn't try!_

_A voice ripped Severus Snape from his thoughts. 'Good morning, Severus. Thank you for coming.'_

_Albus Dumbledore sat down behind his desk in front of him._

_Severus nodded in welcome. 'Headmaster,' he acknowledged the old wizard tersely._

_'Can I offer you some-'_

_Severus got up from his chair abruptly._

_'Let's cut the niceties, Albus. I'm here because I took Harry from his muggle home without notifying you. I didn't stay true to my word that I would stay out of his life. Guilty as charged! But while I apologize for disappointing you and for breaking my promise to you, I think we both know that I have every intention of continuing to break it, in order to give Harry the life that he deserves - at last! But by all means, say what you have to say.'_

_Severus raised his arms to his sides in defeat, palms up, until he became aware how ridiculously dramatic this gesture made him look. He quickly dropped his hands again and began pacing the office before reconsidering and sitting back down in his chair. All this time Albus Dumbledore watched him quietly. Then the old wizard asked:_

_'Is Harry doing well?'_

_The question and its accompanying lack of reproach startled Severus._

_'Of course he's doing well,' he spluttered. 'What do you think I'm doing with him, poison him?'_

_Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. 'I guess not.'_

_'Rest assured he's better off at Snape Manor than he was at Privet Drive number four. Then again, that's not all that difficult, is it?' Severus spat bitterly. 'Do you have any idea what his so-called family is like?'_

_Albus looked down at his hands. 'That I do, my dear,' he answered quietly, sounding sad._

_'Then why in the name of Merlin did you let those people raise Harry?' Severus asked incredulously. 'I never liked the idea of him being raised by ignorant muggles, but I thought they would at least take care of him.'_

_'They did take care of him, Severus.'_

_'Did they? They were more than eager to throw him out from what I've heard. They called him a freak, Albus.'_

_The Headmaster flinched slightly and closed his eyes._

_'I could hex myself that I've never bothered to check on the boy sooner, Albus!' Severus went on. 'But when I gave you my word to sever my bond with Harry, I trusted that you would place my mate (he punctuated those two words clearly) with people that would care for him. Care for him for me.'_

_Dumbledore looked up again. His jaw was set._

_'I placed Harry exactly where I knew he would be safe from harm,' he said determinedly. 'All these years Harry was protected by the most effective, most complex ancient charms; the blood of his family!'_

_'You protected him from Death Eaters, alright!' Severus retorted, refusing to be intimidated by the powerful and now rather angry-looking wizard in front of him. 'I believe I could have done that just as well. You can't argue that the bond between two soulmates is-'_

_'What if you and Harry had not been soulmates after all? I couldn't take that risk, Severus!'_

_The two men stared at each other._

_'Oh, we are mates, Albus,' Severus said softly after a few seconds, a small smile accompanying his words. 'You can be sure of that.'_

_'If that is true we are risking the boy's life just the same at this very moment.'_

_'I might be risking Harry's life simply by separating myself from him, Headmaster,' Severus answered calmly and got up from his chair once more. 'And that is a risk I'm not willing to take any longer. Now if you will excuse me …'_

_He nodded politely and made his way to the door._

_'I expect him at the Order's Headquarters by the end of next week.' Dumbledore called after him. 'Remus Lupin will come and pick him up.'_

_'Very well, Headmaster,' Severus answered without looking back. Then he left._

* * *

His godson's voice snapped Severus out of his reverie. 

'Good morning, Professor Snape!' Draco greeted cheerfully. He plopped down on the empty chair besides Harry. 'Morning, you homeless bum.'

Harry hid a smile behind his empty coffee mug only half-heartedly. 'Morning, you pillock.'

'I'm bored, let's go and torture some muggles.'  
'You really _are_ a pillock, you know that?'  
'Likewise. Let's go.'  
'Go away!'  
'Manners, Potter. Up!'  
'Oh, alright.'

Harry got up from his chair. 'Should I clean the table before I leave, Professor?'

'No. You go, Potter,' Snape said, refilling his own coffee mug. 'But don't think I'll keep up this preferential treatment once we're back at school.'

'But of course not, sir, never!' Harry replied earnestly, looking at him with wide eyes. However, his look of sheer innocence was soon betrayed by a large smile that he didn't even bother to hide anymore.

Severus felt his insides turn into mush as he realized just how much the thin, bespectacled teenager standing there in front of him had begun to resemble the dashing young man he knew to be his husband one day. He allowed a small smile to tug on his lips as he delivered his standard line:

'One o' clock sharp! After that the kitchen is closed to any of you … gnomes.'

Harry nodded with an amused twinkle in his Emerald eyes, whereas Draco saluted curtly. 'YESSIR!'

He began nudging Harry towards the door, but right before leaving the kitchen, the Gryffindor turned around once more. He tipped his head to the side and looked at his Potions master thoughtfully. 'You know,' he said after a moment. 'I'm sure Priya would give _me_ food even after 1 p.m. if I asked her nicely.'

'Potter?'

'Yes, Professor?'

'Vanish.'

Chuckling, Harry followed Draco out of the door.

* * *

'If you were an ice-cream flavor, what would it be?' 

The flat stone skipped across the water merrily before drowning not far from the middle of the lake. Draco turned around to face Harry. 'HA!' he said triumphantly. 'Almost! So … which flavor?'

Harry picked up a stone as well, following Draco's example. 'Ice-cream flavor?' he asked. 'I don't know. Chocolate?'

He threw the stone into the lake, where plunked into the water pathetically a few feet away from him and disappeared. Draco shook his head dismissively.

'Personally, I think you'd be Stracciatella,' he said after a while.

'Oh?' Harry smirked. 'And what would you be?'

'That's easy, I'd be Vanilla. Simple yet elegant and indecently delicious. WHAT?'

He looked over at Harry indignantly, who pretended to be doubling over in silent laughter.

'Simple?' Harry asked incredulously. 'You're considering yourself _simple_?'

Draco frowned. 'You're right, simple is not the word I had in mind. More like …' Suddenly his face lit up into an impish grin. 'So you do agree I'm elegant, Potter?'

He nudged his elbow playfully into Harry's side.

Harry nudged the Blonde back fiercely. 'You wish! Just because your clothes are more expensive than mine doesn't mean you're elegant, Malfoy.'

He grinned and Draco nudged him once more. 'You _do_ think I'm elegant, Potter. And you _so_ think I'm indecently delicious!'

'I DO NOT!'

'DO TOO!'

'Do not.'

'Yes, you do.'

'You are so full of yourself, Malfoy, it's not even funny anymore!'

'You think I'm de-li-cious!' Draco sing-songed.

'How old are you again, Malfoy?' Harry nudged Draco again.

'De-li-cious! De-li- …'

Harry gave the Slytherin another push, a little harder this time.

Draco promptly lost his balance. He rowed his arms in windmill motion, attempting to grab hold of the Gryffindor next to him and regain his balance before … landing in the lake with a thud.

'Potter!' he gasped, spitting out some water.

This time Harry doubled over in laughter for real. 'You're kind of _melting_ Vanilla ice-cream now, aren't you?' he joked, but his laughter quickly stopped at the expression on Draco's face. The Blonde was thrashing the water with a look of pure panic. 'Can't swim!' he chocked.

'But … just … it's not deep!' Harry stuttered. 'Just get up!'

Draco swallowed another mouthful of water and started coughing. 'Potter, help me!' he spluttered. 'PLEASE!'

Instantly, Harry waded into the surprisingly cold water of the lake. He took hold of Draco's arm and began pulling him upright. 'Get up, Malfoy! It's not deep! You don't even need to swim.'

But Draco was clinging to him frantically. 'Get me out of here! Get me out!'

'Calm down, Draco!' Harry ordered. 'I will get you out of here, but you need to calm down! OKAY?'

Draco nodded blankly, still clinging to Harry with all his might. Harry began manoeuvring them towards solid ground again, when he felt Draco pulling him back. He turned around. 'Malfoy!' he said sternly. 'I told you I would … _oh shit, Malf-!_'

Harry barely had time to register how the look of terror on Draco's face twisted into an evilly triumphant grin before he found himself – face first – in the water, held down by Draco Malfoy's hands. _'I should have known,'_ he thought annoyed with himself. He was released a few seconds later and when Harry's head reappeared above the surface of the lake, the Slytherin quickly dodged out of his range and began wading deeper into the lake.

'Rescue me, Potter!' he wailed merrily and began swimming away from Harry on his back, grinning mischievously. 'I can't swim, oh my God, I can't swim!'

Harry shook his head rapidly in an attempt to get the water out of his ears.

'You are so dead!' he informed the Slytherin before calmly taking of his glasses and wiping them clean with his soaking wet shirt.

'Oh am I?' Draco whooped. 'Seems like you need to get me first, Potter!'

He had almost reached the middle of the lake by now.

'Have you been watching last year's tournaments at all, Malfoy?' Harry asked nonchalantly, before putting his glasses back on and driving both hands through his dripping hair.

'Yeah I have!' Draco called outm completely unconcerned. 'Your point being …?'

'… I'm one hell of a swimmer!'

* * *

Their laughter carried across the Entrance Hall, announcing Harry and Draco's arrival long before the boys entered the Dining Room. Severus felt his chest tighten. It had been a long time since he had last heard his godson laugh like this. Harry had to stay! Harry belonged here! Guilt washed over him immediately.

_I really ought to have told Harry sooner!_

Priya put a hand on his and gave it a quick, assuring squeeze before letting go again.

'I will forever remember your face, Potter! You _so_ thought I was drowning!'

'You definitely deserve an Oscar; that much is for sure!'

Draco pushed open the double door to the Dining room.

'Who's Osc-?' He stopped dead in his tracks. And gaped.

Harry promptly walked into him. Following Draco's frozen stare, he began smiling. 'Professor Lupin! Good to see you!' he exclaimed happily.

Severus tried to ignore yet another pang in his chest that had nothing much to do with guilt this time. Next to him the werewolf got up from his chair (Draco narrowed his eyes suspiciously) with a smile on his face. 'Good to see you too, Harry. Hello Draco.'

Draco blinked. Then he nodded courteously. 'Professor Lupin.'

Severus found his voice at last. 'What happened to you?' he asked, motioning at the boys' wet clothes and hair. The teenagers exchanged a quick glance.

'Nothing.' Draco shrugged. 'We just ….'

'… kind of …' Harry continued sheepishly.

'… fell into the lake …' they concluded in unison, grinning at each other.

Priya shook her head and got up as well. 'You will get yourself a cold!' she scolded the boys. 'Go and change into some dry clothes quickly!'

'Preeeya!' Draco whined. 'We're wizards!'

'So?' Priya answered, swatting the Blonde on his behind affectionately. 'Don't wizards get colds, too?'

'No. Yes. But … we can cast a spell to dry us off.'

'Then why didn't you?'

Draco heaved a sigh. 'Because we're not allowed to do magic outside of school!' he explained with an exasperated look into Harry's direction. Harry nodded in confirmation, completely unperturbed. His eyes met Severus' and he smiled. 'We don't want to get our wands taken away from us after all,' he joked. 'Right, Professor?'

His words were met by an uncomfortable silence.

Harry frowned.

'What?' Draco said, looking around.

Remus was the first to clear his throat. 'That's kind of why I'm here actually, Harry. Your hearing.'

Harry blanched. 'There actually will be a hearing?' he interrupted the werewolf. 'But I thought … But there was … I was just …'

He looked at Severus helplessly. Severus got up and walked over to his godson and his mate. He rapped his wand over their heads briskly and a second later the boys were perfectly dry again, with the exception of the small puddle of lake water that had formed at their feet.

'Don't worry, Potter!' he said curtly. 'It'll just be a formality.'

'When is the hearing?' Harry asked, sounding rather fearful. 'Is it today?'

Remus Lupin shook his head. 'In three days.'

'Then why are you picking me up already today?'

'Not today,' Remus corrected him. 'I only came to tell that I will pick you up tomorrow.'

'Tomorrow? But you said it's only in three days.'

Lupin and Snape looked at each other quickly. Misinterpreting the exchange of glances between the two men, Harry's shoulders slumped. Had Snape called his former DA teacher to get rid of him early?

'I'll go and pack,' he said quietly and turned to leave.

Harry's feeling of sadness and resignation hit Severus with a force so strong, that he grabbed a hold of Draco's shoulder for support. The blonde teenager looked at him in surprise.

Usually the Legilimens managed to "zone out" the steady buzz of emotions from the people around him (a rather necessary ability working in a boarding school filled with teenage wizards, thank you very much) and even though Severus had noticed a long time ago that his reception of Harry's feelings was stronger than the usual one (which figured, of course), it had never been this powerful before - with the exception of his encounters with "Future Harry".  
But besides said encounters and the obvious lack of hostility that the present tense Harry displayed towards him nowadays, this overwhelming transmission of emotions was the first, real 'proof' that their bond was steadily growing stronger.

It took Severus' breath away.

'Potter!' he called out, his voice hoarse.

Harry turned around again. 'Yes?' he asked without looking the older man in the eye.

'Don't be ridiculous, you don't need to pack just yet. Professor Lupin won't come back before tomorrow evening,' he barked.

Harry nodded glumly, still not meeting his eyes. 'kay.'

'I have some errands to run over the next few days, that's why you have to leave tomorrow already,' Professor Snape explained. Remus Lupin cleared his throat uncomfortably and suddenly became very interested in the pictures on the wall.

'kay,' Harry repeated, not sounding any happier. Priya cast Severus a warning look. The expression on the Potions master's face softened. 'Otherwise … you'd be more than welcome to stay, of course,' he added. He could practically _feel_ Draco's eyes widen in astonishment. Not that he blamed the boy. Such hospitability on his behalf was rather _uncommon_, to put it mildly.

Harry looked up from his feet at last. He studied Snape for a moment as if he was trying to find out whether or not the offer was sincere, and apparently decided that it was, because his face brightened like a Christmas tree.

'Thanks!' he beamed.

Severus nodded.

'Let's eat,' he said.

**_To be continued_**


	11. Revelations

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**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. I only borrow Severus Snape from time to time to do highly indecent things with him ;-).  
A few phrases and dialogue in this chapter are taken from chapter four of "The Order Of The Phoenix".  
No money is made with this story and no harm intendend, so please don't sue.

**

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Chapter 11  
**"Revelations" **

Being raised as a true Malfoy, Draco rarely found himself at a loss for words.

Then again, being raised as a true Malfoy, Draco rarely had to find words of comfort before and looking at Harry, Draco could tell that this _was_ a moment where words of comfort were adequate. The Gryffindor was entirely too upset about the stupid disciplinary hearing for Draco's taste. He needed to lighten up! But try as he might, Draco couldn't think of a thing to say.

_Damn it._

This could be his last chance to make Potter _seriously_ regret his decision of turning down his offer of friendship back then on the Hogwarts Express (Yes, he was _still_ harping on about that and yes, he _knew_ he hadn't been his friendliest back then either. But how was one to know that Harry Potter would be of the touchy sort? He had just been retaliating at Weaselbee after all! Nobody was allowed to laugh at a Malfoy.).

_Damn it._

For once it was _him_ by Potter's side. Not Granger, not that freckle faced Weasley … _him_! But how was he supposed to know what to say or do now? What did _those two_ do to make Harry laugh again when he was miserable?

How did you stop _anyone_ from being miserable?

* * *

Harry glanced down at the worn-out watch on his wrist.

'It's almost six. I should go back,' he said gloomily and got up from the patch of grass he had previously been occupying. Wistfully he looked across the lake once more, wondering if he would ever see it again. Why should he, though? What reason did he have to _ever_ return to Snape Manor?

_Exactly._

Granted, Sev- … _Professor Snape_ … had been beyond cool about Harry's "invasion" of his home, but Harry wasn't delusional. The teacher had probably just been following Dumbledore's order to get "the boy who lived" out of harm's way. But still … he _had_ been great about it and that's what mattered to Harry. He looked down to his right on the blonde Slytherin he had once hated so badly. Draco was completely lost in his thoughts, staring across the lake in front of him unblinkingly. Harry smiled.

Okay, so he probably _was_ delusional, but he just _knew_ he would miss even Malfoy. He would miss the nagging, the teasing, the laughter, the fights … _everything. _Of course they would see each other again soon since the next term was just around the corner, but somehow Harry doubted that things between them would be this … peaceful … once they had returned to Hogwarts. He didn't dare asking. What was he supposed to say? _'Listen, Draco, are we, like, chums now? Because, um, I'd really love to be friends and all.'_

_Yeah, right._

'You coming? It's almost six,' Harry repeated and Draco looked up at last. 'Is it?' he asked distractedly and got up as well, brushing some grass off his trousers. 'Sitting on the ground is so plebian,' he grumbled. 'I surely won't miss this, Potter.'

Harry didn't smile.

The began walking up the little beaten track that led through a patch of trees – too small to be called a forest - and past something that looked like a miniature chapel to Harry. He had always wanted to ask what it was, but now it didn't matter anyway.

Now he was leaving.

About ten minutes later, the two boys reached the dreadful long staircase that led to the manor … eventually. Draco groaned.

'But _of course _I left my blasted broomstick at home. Of course I have to _walk_ up these stairs now,' he informed no one in particular with as much indignation he could muster. Then he gave Harry one of those little nudges that Harry had become so used to (And cursed as it was, he would miss even those!). 'Can't you 'accio' your firebolt down here, Potter?' he asked, sounding hopeful.

'But _of course_ I will do some out-of-school magic again just for you,' said Harry sarcastically. 'Two days before my disciplinary hearing on my supposed BREACH OF THE DECREE FOR THE RESTRICION OF UNDERAGE WIZARDRY,' he added poignantly and more loudly than necessary.

'Spoilsport,' was Draco's unsentimental reply before the Slytherin suddenly stopped dead two steps below Harry. Then, without a further word, he turned around and began racing back down the stairs.

'Bye to you too, Malfoy!' Harry called after him, surprised.

'Don't leave yet!' Draco yelled back without turning around. 'I'll be right back!'

With a shrug and a shake of his head, but appeased that Malfoy apparently cared enough to say goodbye properly, Harry continued trudging up the stairs. At last he reached the top stair and was able to look across the beautiful garden that stretched out all around the large and equally beautiful manor. Professor Lupin and Priya were already standing on the front porch, looking at him expectantly. Harry's trunk stood between them, packed and waiting.

_'Gee, somebody is eager to see me leave,'_ Harry thought bitterly.

A lump started forming in his throat and he immediately felt angry with himself. Why was he even surprised? People were always happiest when they saw the back of him, weren't they?

_'But I thought this time it would be different,'_ a meek voice in his head piped up, only to be replaced by Uncle Vernon's derisive sneer. _'Freak!'_

And as he approached Snape Manor, his godfather's voice joined the chorus in his head. _'He hates you, Harry, and he wants nothing to do with you.'  
_  
Harry mentally shoved the voices aside (_'Shut up all of you!'_) and by the time he stepped foot on the veranda, a brave smile was plastered on his face. 'Evening, Professor Lupin!' he said, shaking the werewolf's extended hand formally.

'Hello Harry! Are you ready to leave?' asked Lupin, virtually shoving Harry's broomstick into the Gryffindor's face. 'We're flying,' he stated the obvious.

Harry nodded mirthlessly, taking his firebolt from his former teacher. 'Can I say goodbye to Professor Snape first?'

'Oh Harry!' Priya exclaimed. Harry thought she looked as miserable as he felt - and then some! Her naturally tanned and cheerful face was surprisingly pallid. Priya seemed distressed, the lines on her usually ageless face were clearly visible. 'Severus isn't here anymore. He had to leave precipitously, sweetheart …'

Something in Harry's chest unhitched and plummeted down south.

'... and he didn't have time to find you. He left a note, however.' At this she finally smiled and held out her hand for Harry to see. A small, folded up piece of parchment lay inside.

Something in Harry's feet rocketed upwards and stopped only in his throat.

'Oh!' he croaked. 'Thank you.'

He took the parchment, unfolded it, read, blushed brilliantly … and carefully tucked it inside the pocket of his jeans.

'Well then … uhm … goodbye Priya,' he said then, hoarse. 'Thanks for having me. I had a great time. I ...' He stopped as his voice threatened to break and stared intently at a knothole on one of the wooden planks beneath his feet. 'Thanks for everything,' he whispered once he was able to look at the Indian again, his voice thick. Harry blinked.

Priya opened her arms and Harry readily stepped into her embrace.

'It was a pleasure to have you here, sweetheart. Goodbye! I'll see you soon,' Priya told him emphatically, holding him tight. Fiercely pushing away the feeling of hope that her words immediately ignited in him, Harry nodded. 'Uhm-hmm,' he agreed half-heartedly, his voice muffled by the fabric of her Sari.

'Harry, we should leave!' Professor Lupin reminded him quietly.

Reluctantly, Priya and Harry released each other. Harry turned around to face him, when suddenly he remembered something. 'But I need to say good-bye to Draco!' he said urgently. 'Can we wait for just another minute, please, Professor?'

'Why, isn't that sweet?'

The all too familiar drawl made them all turn around. Draco was leaning against the doorframe of the manor's front door casually, the patented Malfoy sneer in place. The look on Professor Lupin's face was one of wariness whereas Harry's face lightened up with a smile at the sight of his former arch-enemy.

'Missing me already, aren't you Potter?' Draco asked lazily. Then he straightened up and stepped onto the front porch.

'You wish,' Harry denied, grinning broadly.

Draco clicked his tongue. 'You're a pathetic liar, Potter, anyone ever told you that?'

'You? Like, every day during the past week?' Harry offered.

Draco seemed to consider this for a moment, his head tipped to the side musingly. 'It didn't help much, did it?' he wondered. 'Anyhow, seeing that you will have to spend the remainder of these beautiful holidays without my humble self ...' (He graciously ignored Harry's amused snort before continuing.) '... I decided to give you this.'

Harry stared at the small object, not much bigger than the palm of Draco's hand, blankly.

Draco sighed. 'You don't know _anything_, do you, you muggle-raised excuse of a wizard?' he asked, stepping closer to Harry and giving him that familiar little nudge - the little bump of their shoulders against each other that Harry this time interpreted as _'No offence intended … pillock!'  
_  
He returned the nudge (_'No offence taken ... dunderhead!'_) and said: 'It looks a bit like a muggle toy. Like a small … a ...', he searched for the right name, remembering said toy vividly amongst Dudley's usual heap of presents many birthdays ago, '... an _etch-a-sketch_?' he asked. Now it was Draco who looked at him blankly.

'This is a Tabulas Loquoram,' he explained instead. 'Or rather, one half of it. I have the other one at home.'

'Right,' Harry said. 'And what's it for, this taboo lock ...?'

'Tabulas Loquoram,' Draco corrected patiently. 'You use it to exchange messages basically. You write something on your half like _this_ (Using his index finger as a quill, he swiftly scribbled down something on the small plate in his hands. Harry watched with wide eyes as the word _Slytherin_ appeared.) … and I can read the same thing on mine. To reply, I wipe your message off like _this_ (Draco wiped across the board lightly with the palm of his hand) and it disappears on your half, too. And, always assuming I _feel_ like replying,' he grinned, 'I write something on my Tabulas Loquoram and it appears on yours, too. As simple as that.'

Harry beamed. 'That's cool!' he said. 'Thanks M ... Draco.'

Draco looked at him strangely, apparently taken aback by Harry's deliberate use of his first name. Harry shifted uncomfortably, but then the Slytherin smiled slightly.

'You're welcome. _Harry_.'

Remus Lupin cleared his throat politely, reminding Harry of the impending leave.

Draco pushed the Tabulas Loquoram into Harry's hands.

'And now get lost you imbecile!' he said. 'Goodbye!'

* * *

'It's so good to see you! Oh Harry! How _are_ you? Having to stay with Professor Snape all this time! Oh, I bet you have been furious with us!'

Hermione's eyes were shining as she let go of Harry at last. She took his hands in hers and gave them a tight squeeze. 'Oh Harry!' she repeated sympathetically. Ron's voice on the other hand was full of awe as he patted Harry's shoulder jovially.

'My condolences, Harry!' he grinned. 'Living at Snapes'! Is his shack as ugly as him? Did you catch scabs, mate?'

The smile died on Harry's face.

The warm and fuzzy feeling of anticipation of seeing his two best friends again after all this time, extinguished as something icy flooded his stomach. Harry dropped Hermione's hands, picked up his trunk and Hedwig's cage again and carried them over to a seemingly unused bed he assumed to be his. He placed the owl cage on the small nightstand and swung the heavy trunk onto the bed before sitting down next to it. An uncomfortable silence stretched out between the three of them. Harry took his time looking around the room. It was dank and dark and entirely unpleasant, a stark contrast to his cozy, warm and friendly bedroom at Snape Manor. Harry scowled.

'Was it very bad, Harry, having to stay with Professor Snape?' Hermione asked fearfully, obviously misinterpreting Harry's behavior.

'No,' answered Harry coldly. 'Not at all.'

'COME OFF IT!' Ron exclaimed brightly. 'Two weeks with that greasy git! TWO WEEKS! How did you survive? Merlin, how we pitied you! Didn't we, Hermione?'

Hermione nodded somberly.

'Snape out of all people!' Ron went on. 'How come he didn't kill you anyway? Mind you, I would've killed myself if I had to live inside that ugly old bast-'

He stopped mid-sentence. The room suddenly seemed to be shaken by a small earthquake. Books were dancing on their shelves, picture frames swayed adventurously on the walls as the windows were rattling slightly. The light bulb flickered rebelliously before normality returned a few seconds later.

'Woah!' Ron gasped.

'What was that?' asked Hermione nervously.

'He's not a bastard!' Harry growled.

Hermione and Ron turned around in surprise. 'Excuse me?' Ron asked incredulously, with a small shake of his head.

'I SAID HE'S NOT A BASTARD!' Harry barked, his hands clenched into tight fists. 'HOW DARE YOU? YOU'VE BEEN SITTING HERE WARM AND DRY ALL SUMMER NOT TELLING ME _ANYTHING_ WHILE I WAS STUCK AT THE DURSLEYS, NOT KNOWING WHAT THE FUCK'S GOING ON! AND EVEN WHEN DEMENTORS ATTACKED ME AND THE MINISTRY THREATENED TO DISPELL ME AND DESTROY MY WAND, NOBODY SAW IT FIT TO CONTACT ME. SAVE FOR DUMBLEDORE'S STUPID, LITTLE MESSAGES, OF COURSE, WHICH HE MIGHT AS WELL HAVE SHOVED UP HIS ARSE! _STAY WHERE YOU ARE! _FUCK IT! NO, IT WASN'T HIM WHO GOT ME OUT OF THERE AND IT CERTAINLY WASN'T YOU EITHER, WAS IT? IT WAS SNAPE! SO HOW DARE YOU?'

'But Harry-'

'DON'T HARRY ME! ALL THIS TIME I'VE BEEN STUCK AT PRIVET DRIVE, NICKING PAPERS OUT OF BINS TRYING TO FIND OUT WHAT'S BEEN GOING ON WHILE YOU-!'

And then, at long last, something inside of Harry snapped and he screamed out what he really meant to say:

'I SUPPOSE YOU'VE BEEN HAVING A REAL LAUGH, HAVEN'T YOU, ALL HOLED UP HERE TOGETHER ALL SUMMER WHILE I WAS LOCKED UP AT THE DURSLEYS' FOR FIVE DAYS A WEEK SAVE FOR WEEKENDS, FED THROUGH A FUCKING CATFLAP IN MY DOOR LIKE SOME FUCKING _FREAK_ AND KINDLY ALLOWED TO LEAVE THE ROOM THREE TIMES A DAY TO GO TO THE FUCKING BATHROOM! OH, BUT DON'T GET ME WRONG! ALL THAT WAS A MAJOR IMPROVEMENT TO THE CUPBOARD I HAD TO LIVE IN FOR TEN YEARS OF MY GODDAMN LIFE, OF COURSE!'

At that Hermione began to cry, but Harry didn't care.

'ALL MY LIFE I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR SOMEONE TO COME AND HELP ME! BUT NOBODY EVER DID, DID THEY?' he yelled, savoring the satisfying release of all his penned up rage. Ron opened his mouth to protest (the twins and him had been risking their necks for Harry once after all, rescuing him from Privet Drive, number four, in their dad's flying Ford Anglia) but closed it again quickly as Harry ranted on:

'BUT PROFESSOR SNAPE CAME FOR ME! SO DON'T YOU DARE TO TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT, DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE! YOU DON'T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT HIM! BUT YOU WANNA KNOW SOMETHING? I HAD A GREAT TIME DURING THESE LAST TWO WEEKS! IN FACT I WOULD HAVE VERY MUCH PREFERED TO STAY AT SNAPE MANOR INSTEAD OF COMING HERE!'

Catching his breath, Harry slumped back against the wall and crossed his arms in front of him protectively. Suddenly he felt exposed and very embarrassed. He hadn't meant to say all that! Ron and Hermione weren't supposed to know these things. Nobody was supposed to know just how badly he was _really_ treated at Privet Drive.

'I mean, what _is_ this place anyway?' he sneered in an attempt to change the subject, looking around with distain.

'Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix,' Ron said weakly.

* * *

One floor below, just beneath the three Gryffindors, the members of the Order of the Phoenix sat frozen in shock as Harry Potter's angry voice carried through the ceiling and echoed through the room. The silence that followed the youth's outburst was thick enough to be cut with a knife. And although the chandelier above their heads and the pictures on the walls had long stopped dangling, the air was still cackling from Harry Potter's angry spout of magic. Then, Molly Weasley buried her face in her hands and broke into sobs ('The poor baby!'), her shoulders shaking rapidly. Arthur Weasley tried to console his wife, but to no avail.

Everyone else was looking back and forth between the two wizards on either end of the long table. One of them was Hogwarts' Headmaster Albus Dumbledore and the other one was Severus Snape, the man Harry Potter had defended so fervently only seconds earlier.

The tension between the two men was tangible as they stared at each other quietly.

The muscles in Severus' jaw and throat were moving as he clenched his teeth, grinding them. Those who were watching closely saw that the knuckles of his hands were white, his fingers gripping the tabletop on either side. Albus Dumbledore appeared slightly more relaxed and calm. His old and wrinkled face, however, looked tired and very sad. His eyes, which usually gleamed in amusement, looked surprisingly dull behind his half-moon spectacles. It was Sirius Black who interrupted the pregnant silence at last.

'A cupboard?' he thundered, shaking with rage. 'A catflap? Locked up for five days of the week? What's the meaning of all this, Albus?' he demanded.

Dumbledore didn't answer.

Severus Snape got up from his chair jerkily. 'I'm glad to see I'm not the only one surprised by this rather interesting revelation!' he hissed and swept out of the room, his long robes billowing behind him.

* * *

'… and some of them are standing guard over something,' Ron concluded his report. 'They were always talking about guard duty.'

'Couldn't have been me, could it?' Harry sneered at the redhead, his upper lip curled and his eyebrows raised sarcastically - fully aware that he acted like a carbon copy of Draco Malfoy … and relishing it.

Two loud cracks made him jump.

The Weasley twins Fred and George had apparated in the middle off the room. Hedwig hooted indignantly and Ron's miniature owl Pigwidgeon began zooming around their heads excitedly, twittering shrilly.

'Hello Harry!' the twins beamed at the sulking Gryffindor on the bed. 'We thought we heard your dulcet tones!'

Fred grinned. 'You don't want to bottle up your anger up like that, Harry, let it all out! There might be a couple of people fifty miles away who didn't hear you.'

The door opened and Ginny Weasley stepped into the room. 'Hey Harry! I thought I heard your voice!' She smiled at him impishly.

Harry made a face. 'Hi all!' he greeted grumpily.

'Anyway, you're interfering with reception, Harry,' Fred said. 'We're trying to find out what old Snape's up to.'

'Erm ... no offence!' he added with a wink at Harry, grinning brightly.

'Professor Snape?' Harry asked surprised, jumping up off his bed at once. 'Is he here?'

George nodded. 'He's giving a top secret report. He works for the Or-'

But Harry had already dashed passed him and bolted out of the room. The remaining Gryffindors exchanged ambiguous (and in Fred and George's case rather amused) glances. Less than two minutes later, however, Harry was back again.

'He's already gone,' he said, looking crestfallen. 'And the meeting's over, too. Your mum said we can come down for dinner now.'

Hooting loudly, the Weasley siblings scrambled out of the door and began trotting down the stairs noisily. Harry on the other hand, sat back down on his bed.

'Aren't you coming?' Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head. 'Not hungry.'

Hermione nodded and closed the door behind her softly.

Harry heaved a sigh. It would have been so nice to see Professor Snape again and be able to say goodbye properly. He hadn't even thanked him yet! Sighing once more, Harry leaned back and reached into the pocket of his jeans, pulling out the small parchment that Priya had given him earlier today. He unfolded it and smoothed the paper on his lap carefully before reading the message, that his Potions master had left for him, once more.

_Harry,_

_Inept a student you may be in my classroom, you were an undoubtedly pleasant guest to have in my house. I am, however, not pleased by how shamelessly you have turned both Priya and Yulub's head. I've been threatened repeatedly with death by starvation or poisoning, should I dare to let you pass your OWL exam with anything below an E. _

_Should you ever be on the run from the Ministry again, I'm sure the female population of Snape Manor will gladly provide you with shelter once more._

_Yours sincerely (albeit completely unamused)_

_S. Snape_

_PS: You had better start studying for your OWLs, Potter. Or else._

Harry read the humorous note over and over again. Occasionally he snickered, the smile on his face growing brighter by the minute …

**_To be continued_**


	12. In the Crossfire, Part I

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**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter doesn't really belong to me.  
The poor thing just got lost on his way home and I'm cruelly taking advantage of him now.

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Chapter 12  
**"In The Crossfire"  
Part I**

The bodiless head that danced upon the flames wore an expression of utmost contempt.

'If we don't act soon, Lucius, the situation will not be ours to control any longer. We've been lenient for far too long. And in the light of the latest events …'

Lucius held up a dismissive hand. 'I am well informed, Nott,' he said coolly. 'But time is not on our side yet.'

'And when will it be?' the head snapped heatedly.

Lucius Malfoy's face was void of any emotion. 'Really now, we've been through this before,' he drawled. 'We will have to wait for the next school term -'

'But!'

Again Lucius held up a stopping hand, but this time the gesture wasn't casual. This time it was a threat.

'Enough,' he said evenly. 'We all agreed that letting them gain a sense of false security is vital to the successful execution of our strategy. That would be all for now. My regards to your wife.'

* * *

It had been Sirius who had practically dragged Harry out of the room last night, ordering him down for dinner at last. He had been incredulous, downright scandalized, asking if Harry wasn't the least bit interested about Voldemort's whereabouts.

_Oh … that._

'Of course,' Harry had said weakly. 'So tell me.'

Reflecting on his time at Snape Manor, Harry realized he hadn't thought about Voldemort even once during those two weeks. He had simply forgotten!

_Oh, what bliss._

Now that he was lying in his bed at number Twelve, Grimmauld Place, listening to Ron's quiet snoring and desperately trying to find some sleep himself, it was all back: the hatred, the grief, Tom Riddle, the Death Eaters, the graveyard, Cedric …

It wasn't until the break of dawn that Harry finally fell into a troubled, restless sleep.

* * *

The next morning Harry was sitting at the kitchen table with dark circles under his eyes and a temper to match. 'Can I have coffee?' he asked when Mrs Weasley placed a steaming cup of hot chocolate in front of him.

'Coffee?' Mrs Weasley laughed. 'You're fifteen.'

'So? Professor Snape let me have coffee,' Harry argued grumpily.

Molly's upper lip curled. 'Yes, well, in _my_ kitchen children are not allowed to drink coffee.'

'… not a child anymore,' Harry mumbled in rebellion, but not wanting to let his bad mood out on Ron's mother, he started drinking his chocolate without further argument.

By now everyone was up and about and people began filing into the kitchen. Soon the air was buzzing with laughter, talking and requests to pass the butter, please. Feeling decidedly out of place, Harry rarely joined the merry chattering, giving one-syllable answers only when deemed absolutely necessary. His left finger was tapping against his mug rapidly and in sync with his left foot underneath the table. His gaze traveled across the room until it came to rest on the ugly old clock that was hanging above the kitchen door.

It was almost half past nine.

Harry smiled wistfully and for a while he amused himself with picturing everybody's face if Draco Malfoy came marching into this very kitchen right now and told Harry to _"let's go and torture some Muggles, Potter!"_

Harry snickered to himself. And then he remembered.

The Tabulas Loquoram!

'Can I get up?' he asked Mrs Weasley breathlessly, already pushing back his chair.

Molly nodded. 'Of course, dear!'

Quickly, Harry gathered his dishes and carried them over to the sink. Without a further word, he bolted out of the kitchen. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look of confusion. Sirius Black looked annoyed.

* * *

Dark green velvet had successfully hindered any such mundane nuisances as the morning sun from entering his bedroom for hours. Unfortunately, and much to Draco's regret, same velvet wasn't impervious to vigorous mothers, who took heartless delight in forcing their only sons into the cruel, cruel …

'Good morning, darling!' Narcissa cooed, swiftly pulling the heavy, green curtains apart.

… daylight.

Draco Malfoy groaned as a brazen ray of light had the indecency to dance upon his nose. He wrenched open his very reluctant eyes and squinted at the tip of his nose. 'Crucio,' he frowned drowsily, his voice thick with sleep. Narcissa laughed and sat down on the rim of her son's bed. She bent over him and captured his nose between her thumb and index finger, tugging on it gently. Draco whined in protest.

'_MUM!' _

'Don't you hurt this cute little nose,' Narcissa said, shaking it teasingly. 'Because this cute little nose here is all ….' She bent down and planted a hearty smooch on the nose in question.

'…all…'

'Muhuum!' Draco complained, sounding as though he was having a really bad cold.

Another kiss followed.

'Muh-meeeee!'

'…all mine!' Narcissa concluded. One last kiss … and Draco's nose was released. Protesting incoherently, he disappeared underneath a heap of pillows, which he pressed onto the back of his head firmly with both hands. Narcissa Malfoy pulled up her feet and lay down on the bed as well, propping herself up on one elbow. The bundle of blankets and pillows next to her shifted wordlessly to make room. Narcissa smiled.

'Draco?' she asked softly.

'Mmhmfhghm,' came the muffled reply.

'Don't you want to get up at all today?'

Narcissa wasn't sure if it were his manners or the lack of oxygen that forced her son to reply, but a few seconds later a mop of golden blonde hair appeared from underneath the pillows and announced: 'Not if I can help it!'

'So you won't accompany your poor, old mother on a trip to Diagon Alley to do some last minute shopping for her birthday party, then?'

'Do I look like a house-elf?' Draco mumbled grumpily.

'Right now?' Narcissa teased, ruffling her son's silky hair with an amused smirk. 'I'd say the resemblance is rather startling.'

'That, dear mother, would be the result of many long years of your pureblood inbreeding,' Draco drawled and Narcissa laughed heartily once more. 'You're impossible!' she scolded in between giggles.

Draco's smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

Narcissa became serious. 'Sparkplug, what's wrong?' she asked him, gently smoothing his hair. 'And don't tell me 'it's nothing',' she added, when Draco opened his mouth to reply. Draco closed his mouth again. He turned his head away from his mother and stared at the wall in front of him.

'Potter!' he complained at last.

'I see!' Narcissa nodded. 'So we've reached chapter seven hundred and sixty five of _'Why I hate Harry Potter'_. What did he do this time?'

There was another pause and then a small voice, that didn't sound much like her son at all, said: 'He left.'

Narcissa put an arm around Draco's shoulder and began caressing his cheek with the knuckles of her left hand lovingly.

'You got along well, didn't you?' she asked quietly.

'Mmmh.' Draco confirmed miserably.

'Did Harry like living at Snape Manor?'

'Mmmh.'

They lay side by side in silence for a while. Enjoying his mother's soft caress, Draco felt himself getting drowsy again until Narcissa asked: 'Did you give him the Tabulas Loquoram?' She indicated at the small plate that lay on Draco's nightstand.

There was a long pause.

'Yes,' Draco said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. Narcissa kissed the back of his head gently.

'Why don't you go and ask your father to keep an eye on Harry at the Ministry tomorrow?' she asked after a while.

'But mum, you know what he said!'

'Sparkplug, just talk to him! Tell your father what you've told me!'

Draco turned around slowly. 'About the Tabulas Loquoram?' he asked dubiously and when his mother nodded, his eyes grew wide.

'Everything?'

* * *

Shouting an offhand obscenity back at the screeching portrait of his godfather's mother, Harry raced up the stairs and into the room he shared with Ron. He dragged his trunk from behind the wardrobe with an effort and threw it open. Rummaging through the contents, he quickly found what he was looking for. He sat down on the floor in front of his bed and leaned against it. He pulled up his knees and propped the Tabulas Loquoram against his legs.

Did Draco honestly want him to use it?

Harry pondered this for a while and then decided he knew Malfoy well enough by now to know that the Slytherin wouldn't have given him something like this if he hadn't meant for them to use it. Harry took a deep breath and crooked his index finger to start writing something the way Draco had been showing to him yesterday, when suddenly the words _'Good morning, Potter!' _materialized on the Tabulas Loquoram. Harry laughed, surprised. He wiped off the message and replied: _'Hi Malfoy!'_

'_I'm bored,'_ replaced his greeting a few seconds later. _'Let's think up 10 ways to drive Weaselbee crazy.'_

Harry tried to hold back a chuckle out of loyalty to Ron, but failed.

'_Just come here and talk to him,'_ he replied. _'That should do the trick!'_

'_Why, where are you? Not back with the Muggles?'_

'_I'm at Ron's!' _Harry lied miserably, knowing he wasn't allowed to mention Grimmauld Place or the Order to anyone and especially, he figured, the son of a Death Eater.

Suddenly the door opened and Ron came in, followed by Hermione and Ginny. 'Hi Harry!' they greeted.

Ron threw himself onto his bed ('I'm stuffed!') and the girls sat down on the floor in front of Harry. Harry smiled at them distractedly and then looked back down at the Tabulas Loquoram, where the words _'Oh joy!' _were written now. Harry smiled amusedly before wiping them off.

'_Moron!' _he scolded._ 'The Weasleys are all very nice …well, except Percy maybe.'_

Waiting for Draco's response, Harry looked up and saw everybody was staring at him interestedly. Ginny was the first to ask what they all wanted to know: 'What's that?'

'A Tabulas Loquoram,' answered Harry casually and returned his attention to the object in question. _'The twins can be rather entertaining sometimes, I admit,_' was written on the board now. _'For two Gryffindors anyway.'_

'Oooh!' Hermione said excitedly. 'I've heard of those! They are really expensive! Did Professor Snape give it to you?'

'No,' Harry said, wiping the board with the palm of his hand and looking at her. 'Draco did.'

They all gaped at him and Harry knew they were desperately waiting for the two words that would restore their world order. _Just kidding!_

Well, they could keep on waiting.

Nonchalantly, he began writing again. _'Where are you anyway? At home?'_

'You're writing with Draco Malfoy right now?' Ron gasped, his eyes as round as saucer plates.

'Yes, I am,' Harry said calmly without looking up. His last words vanished and were soon replaced by _'Yes, but I actually have to go now. It's my mother's birthday tomorrow and I bullied her into buying me some new dress robes for the party.'_

Harry grinned, remembering their first meeting at Madame Malkin's clearly. Draco had mentioned something about bullying his father into buying him a broomstick back then as well, and Harry had disliked him immediately, simply because Draco's attitude had reminded him of Dudley. Had he known then, that Draco's way of bullying had most probably included the words _'I'm bored, let's buy me a broomstick,'_ he'd been a lot friendlier, Harry reckoned. Now that he knew that Draco and Dudley couldn't be more different from each other, Harry often wondered how things had turned out if he had accepted Draco's hand on the train to Hogwarts that year. Would the Malfoys be his surrogate family now instead of the Weasleys? Harry grinned again.

_Okay, so maybe THAT is a bit unlikely!_

'YOU'RE WRITING WITH DRACO MALFOY RIGHT NOW?' Ron hollered, the words all but tumbling over each other. When Harry looked up at his friend, he saw that Ron's face was scarlet red with anger. Harry found he didn't quite care.

'Yes, I'm writing with Draco Malfoy right now!' he repeated slowly as though Ron was a first grader that didn't want to believe that one and one equaled two.

'_I'll talk to you later then. Please say hello to everyone!_' he scribbled on the Tabulas Loquoram. He could practically _feel_ his friends' incredulous looks on his skin and once more decided … he didn't quite care. A small part of him even enjoyed the horror he was causing them.

'_My mother, too?' _came the prompt reply.

Harry snickered. _'If you like!' _he wrote back_. 'Tell her I said happy birthday.'_

'_She'll be delighted, Potter.'_

'_I'm sure! Bye Draco!'_

'_Bye H-A-R-R-Y!'_

Laughing lightly, Harry wiped the board clean and carefully tugged it underneath his pillow. Then he closed his trunk and put it back behind the wardrobe, deliberately taking his time and not looking at anyone. For the first time since his departure from Snape Manor, his spirits had been lifted and so he wasn't exactly eager for the discussion with Ron, Hermione and Ginny, that would no doubt start any second now. When he felt he couldn't put it off any longer, he turned around to look at his friends. All three looked as though they had been petrified. The Weasleys' faces seemed frozen in shock whereas Hermione looked ... he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Was it surprise?

'WHAT?' he snapped.

As if he had been waiting for a cue, Ron started roaring something that nobody could quite understand although, occasionally, the words 'of all people' and 'wrong with you?' were audible. When a profound lack of oxygen made him gasp for air, Ginny asked quietly:

'Are you sure the one replying on your Tabulas Loquoram is Draco?'

Harry stared at her, flabbergasted. It took him a while to grasp the meaning of her question, but then it dawned on him.

'Ginny,' he said softly. 'This is not an evil Death Eater plot to bring back Tom Riddle, if that's what you're thinking. Yes, it's definitely Draco Malfoy and he means no harm. I'm sure of that.'

'You trust him then?'

Harry pondered this for a moment. 'Yes,' he said a few seconds later, his voice firm. 'I trust him.'

Again, Ron started spluttering something inaudible, but his sister nodded slowly. 'Well,' she said thoughtfully. 'Then that's good enough for me.'

She smiled at Harry, who returned her smile gratefully, touched by her words. Suddenly, Ginny sneezed loudly.

'And now my Malfoy allergy is coming through again.' she sniffed through a stuffed nose. 'Thanks a lot, Harry!'

'I am _terribly_ sorry!' Harry answered dramatically, a hand on his heart.

'It's quite alright,' Ginny said graciously, getting up. 'Anyway, I'm going to murder a few Doxys now, so you'll have to excuse me. And you're going to help me, Ronald Weasley!' Ginny glared at her brother warningly. She had almost managed to drag him out of the room, when Ron turned around one last time.  
'One thing I don't understand, Harry!' he said bitterly. 'All these years Snape and Malfoy treated you like shit. And now they're suddenly your best friends? If you ask me, you've been confunded. Big time!'

He turned on his heels and strode out of the room, closing the door behind him with a bang. Harry sighed. He sat down beside Hermione, who hadn't said a single word since Harry's revelation that he was conversing with Draco Malfoy. For a while neither of them spoke.

'What's he like?' Hermione suddenly wanted to know in a voice so low and unlike hers that Harry almost didn't understand her.

'Draco?' he asked needlessly. Hermione nodded.

Harry smiled. 'Spoiled rotten, is what he is. A moron. Funny.'

He laughed as he thought back on the two weeks that lay behind him. 'I mean, he can be hilarious! And he's _nice_, actually. He'd be deeply offended if he knew I said this, mind you, but he actually _is_ a nice guy.'

'So you're saying he was never mean to you? Not even once?' Hermione asked quietly.

Harry thought this through thoroughly.

'No!' he shook his head at last, sounding almost as surprised by the result as Hermione looked. 'Not once! Although we were arguing a LOT,' he rolled his eyes and Hermione smiled, 'it was always ... it was never …' Harry broke off, searching for a way to explain the warped friendship that had formed between him and his former nemesis. 'He was never malicious or cruel or anything.'

'Not once?' Hermione asked again.

Harry shook his head firmly.

'And I haven't been confunded nor has anybody put me under an Imperius Curse!' he added quickly. Hermione nodded.

'So … are you … are you and Draco friends now, then?'

'I hope so,' Harry answered. 'Yes, I think so.'

Hermione Granger burst into tears.

* * *

Draco gazed at the blonde boy in the mirror carefully, twisting and turning from side to side. His reflection endured the scrutiny with a satisfied smirk.

'Handsome, dear!' the mirror said approvingly.

Straightening the collar of his new black dress robes, Draco raised his eyebrows sternly.

'Drop dead gorgeous!' he corrected and his reflection started grinning mischievously. 'Why be modest?'

He pulled the robes over his head again, flung them onto the bed and changed into a regular pair of black jeans and a fitting t-shirt. And after ordering a house-elf to take care of his new clothes, he made his way over to his father's study. He still hadn't made up his mind about following his mother's advice of telling Lucius about the Tabulas Loquoram, but Draco knew that, with the end of the summer holiday approaching in rapid speed, he couldn't put off talking to his father about Harry Potter for much longer. Plus, he _really_ needed to ask his father about keeping an eye on Harry during that darned hearing tomorrow. If those cretins took away Potters' wand or, Merlin forbid, expelled him! No, that wasn't allowed to happen! Surely Lucius would agree that Draco needed a fr- … some good competition … at Hogwarts next term, in order to keep up his spirits _and_ his grades.

Draco was just about to knock at his father's study door, when he heard the voices from inside...

* * *

'Are you telling me the boy who lived grew up being a prisoner in his own home?'

'That's what I'm telling you,' Severus nodded gravely.

Lucius Malfoy's look was one of disbelief. 'And the old man knew about all this?'

Again, Severus nodded. 'It seems like it.'

Lucius' face grew hard. Then he shook his head. 'How can you raise a child in a cupboard for ten years without anyone ever noticing? Do Muggles _ever_ get anything right?' he spat contemptuously. The woman sitting on the sofa next to Severus, nodded in agreement, a frown darkening her pretty face.

'Don't these people have a Ministry?' she asked angrily. 'Surely somebody must be taking care of these things?'

Lucius waved his hand impatiently. 'Narcissa, look at all the incompetent imbeciles calling themselves _our_ Ministry!' he snorted. 'If their _authorities_ (the word was glazed with sarcastic contempt) are only half as useless as ours …'

Severus gave a dry laugh. 'They are, trust me!'

Lucius nodded. 'I've said it time and time again,' he said. 'Everybody has to stand up for themselves.'

'He's fifteen, Lucius. He hasn't learned to stand up for himself.'

Lucius raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'Is that so? From all your past rants about _"that insufferable Potter brat!"_ I would have gathered something else. Personally, I know for a fact the boy is more than capable to stand up for himself … and I'm sure Dobby would happily agree,' he added dryly, the loss Dobby, the house-elf still fresh on his mind.

Severus grinned. 'I'm not saying the lad's submissive. That he's not.'

'So I've been told,' Lucius smirked. 'My son has already complained at length, thank you. Repeatedly.'

Severus and Narcissa laughed.

'But you can't honestly tell me he's been treated like this for all his life and never said a word before. To anyone! Imagine we tried locking Draco in a cupboard - much as I'd would love to some days,' Lucius grinned. 'His protests would be heard in Africa … and beyond.' His wife nodded, looking amused.

'Not if you had locked him in since the age of one,' Severus argued. 'If you're being told you're a freak and unworthy of love and attention for all your life by the people you call family, you don't know any better,' he told his friends quietly. 'It takes a miracle to change that. For me, that miracle was Priya. But there are no Priyas in Little Whinging for Harry.'

Narcissa put a light hand on his knee. 'You will be that miracle, Sev,' she said softly.

Severus smiled at her thankfully and nodded. Then he looked over at Lucius. 'But I will need your help.'

Lucius studied Severus' face calmly for a moment, before saying:

'Speak.'

**_To be continued_**


	13. In the Crossfire, Part II

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer:**

I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter doesn't really belong to me.  
I've kidnapped him, locked him in the basement with Severus Snape … and for the time being I will just pretend they're mine.

This chapter contains some dialogue taken from "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix", chapter 8 and 9.

* * *

Chapter 13  
**"In The Crossfire"  
Part II **

'That will have to wait,' Severus answered and when Lucius frowned in confusion, the Legilimens nodded towards the door with a light smirk. 'I believe your son would like to talk to you first.'

Lucius opened the door of his study with a flick of his wand and an untroubled looking Draco came waltzing in.

'Eavesdropping, son?' Lucius asked mockingly.

'I tried,' Draco replied flippantly, but his cheeks flushed a slight twinge of pink. He grimaced at his godfather (_'Thanks a lot, Sev!'_) and then demanded:

'So what's all this about Potter being raised in a cupboard? And why did mother say that Sev will be his miracle? _What miracle?_'

Severus and Narcissa preferred looking down on the floor instead of meeting Draco's eyes, both hiding a smile. Lucius, however, didn't look too amused anymore.

'What is it you wanted, Draco?'

Draco sighed inwardly, knowing that insisting on having his questions answered would get him nowhere with his father – except thrown out of the room.

'Ironically enough,' he smirked, 'I came here to talk to you about Harry Potter.'

Lucius raised his eyebrows in surprise. 'Did you now? Well …?' he questioned.

Draco cast a fleeting glance at his mother, who smiled encouragingly, before looking back at his father. He took a deep breath.

'I wanted to ask you to kindly watch out for him at the Ministry tomorrow and make sure that nobody destroys his wand.'

Lucius Malfoy seldomly lost his countenance, but now he _goggled_ at his son. Of course, Severus had already approached him with the same request, but Draco? His son? The same son that considered a day without the opportunity of getting under that Potter kid's skin a day lost?

'You want _ME_ to make sure that the Ministry doesn't destroy _HARRY POTTER'S_ wand, did I understand that correctly?' he asked incredulously.

'Yes, father,' Draco nodded, forcing his voice to stay even and holding Lucius' gaze with his own. 'Please. I would appreciate it.'

'Tell me why.'

Draco swallowed. 'Because … he's my friend.'

* * *

To say that Sirius Black was disappointed by Harry's lack of enthusiasm for staying at number 12, Grimmauld Place would be an understatement. 

He had expected his godson to be delighted at the prospect of living with him for the remainder of the holidays; excited to be staying at the Headquarters of a secret society. At the very least, Sirius had expected Harry to be happy to be gone from Privet Drive. And – yes, alright - he had hoped for Harry to be more than happy to be gone from his greasy, old Potions master again, too.

_Merlin curse you, Severus Snape!_

Even though Sirius suspected that Harry's atrocious mood had everything to do with the impending disciplinary hearing, it didn't stop Sirius from being a bit irritated by it.  
James Potter would have seen the situation for what it was! An adventure. A thrill. A great, big joke, really. After all, nobody here _seriously_ expected Harry to be expelled and have his wand taken away, did they? He was the boy who lived, for crying out loud!

Looking across the dinner table at the miserable teenager, Sirius was once more startled and surprised by how alike Harry and his father looked on the outside and how different they were inside.  
Whereas James had always been practically oozing self-confidence and imperturbability, Harry usually seemed tense and on edge. Now that Sirius knew just how badly those goddamned Dursleys had really treated Harry (and he had a nasty feeling he _still_ didn't know half of it), he viewed his godson's behavior in a different light, of course.

How he despised to be confined to this vile place when all he really wanted to do was march into Privet Drive, number four and hex the daylights out of Lily's sister and her hideous husband. And Albus Dumbledore for letting the brute get away with everything, too. And Snape for … oh, who cared … hexing the daylights out of Snivellus Snape was something he wanted as a matter of principle!

_Merlin curse you, Severus Snape!_

Sirius wasn't a man of big words and his stint at Azkaban hadn't done much for his social skills, but that didn't mean he didn't want to be there for his godson. He wanted nothing more than to be there for Harry!  
But how he was supposed to do that when Harry kept to himself like this, always hiding in some corner or other, usually with the stupid Tabulas Loquoram in his hands and not speaking to anyone, Sirius did not know.

All Sirius knew was that James would be turning in his grave if he knew that his son had become friends with that snotty-nosed Malfoy brat and, from the sounds of it, with Snape, too. _Soulmates … pah!  
_Why oh why hadn't he been able to prevent this?

_Merlin curse you, Severus Snape!_

Musingly Sirius Black watched his godson stabbing away at his food rather than eating it. And although Harry's thoughts seemed to have driven to a place far away from number 12, Grimmauld Place (not that Sirius could blame him, really), his entire demeanor resembled that of a cat on a hot tin roof. His shoulders were hunched and tiny, almost unnoticeable tremors seemed to be running through his tense body, but Sirius already knew that those came from the constant rapid tapping of Harry's feet on the kitchen floor.

As much as he hated to admit it, there was no denying that his time with the greasy git had done Harry no harm. Apart from the dark circles under his eyes now, the teen looked healthy, tanned and surprisingly well nourished. A small, nagging voice deep inside Sirius' mind told him that, up until his arrival last evening, Harry's mood had also been a much better one, but Sirius chose to ignore that blasted little voice for the time being.

_Merlin curse you, Se-_

Suddenly Harry's shoulders slumped. And even though the boy was still mashing his potatoes with vigour, Sirius could literally see the tension flowing out of Harry's muscles.

The door behind Harry opened.

Startled Sirius watched as Harry's jaw unclenched, the frown on his handsome face vanished and his breathing became deep and steady until he seemed almost completely … relaxed!

Inside came Severus Snape. He was holding a small bottle that held a bright blue liquid inside. Automatically Sirius looked back at his godson. Still lost in his own little world of thoughts, Harry hadn't noticed anyone entering the kitchen.

Sirius felt a flare of triumph.

_Soulmates … Ha! No way!_

* * *

Miles away from number 12, Grimmauld Place, the Malfoy's family dinner was a cold and unpleasant affair. 

All three family members were scattered around the ridiculously long dinner table, sitting as far away from each other as possible. Narcissa's distance from him was meant as a punishment, Lucius knew. Draco simply wanted enough room to sulk in peace.

A terrible row had followed his son's confession that he now viewed Harry Potter as a friend … and planned on treating the brat as such, too.

Lucius had flat-out forbidden it. No. Period. End of discussion.

Draco had been outraged, then hurt, then both. His wife had been heart-broken over her son's distress and Severus … he hadn't said anything, but Lucius knew that his old friend was very disappointed in him.

It was ridiculous, really. All that Lucius was doing was to protect his family!

And, in a way, that protection even included that darned James Potter offspring – whether Lucius wanted to or not. After all, it wouldn't do _anyone_ good if Draco, the son of a well-known Death Eater, was publicly being friendly with Harry Potter – who only happened to be the very same thing the Dark Lord had set out to destroy.

He knew he couldn't stop Severus from being with Potter even if he tried. But he didn't want to! Those two were mates after all.

But unlike Draco, Severus was not only a very powerful wizard but also a most cunning Occlumens, and therefore more than capable of hiding his true feelings for the boy he was supposed to hate in front of the Dark Lord. Lucius had no doubt in his mind that Severus would always be able to protect both, himself and his mate, sufficiently.

But who would protect Lucius' only son once his friendship with the boy who bloody lived was out in the open, which – if Draco could have it his way – would be as soon as their first day back at Hogwarts? Hogwarts that happened to be full of Death Eater's kids only waiting to report this outraging piece of news to their parents, who in return wouldn't waste a second reporting it directly to the Dark Lord.

And then what?

* * *

Three seats next to Harry, Molly Weasley got up with a smile. 'Oh! Ginny's medicine! Thanks a lot, Professor!' she greeted Severus before taking the small bottle from him carefully. 

'Good evening, everybody!' Severus said curtly, nodding at everyone and nobody in particular.

'Good evening, Professor!' the table answered in unison, more or less enthusiastically. Ginny coughed her welcome. Then she sneezed twice for good measure.

Only Harry, who was sitting right in front of Severus with his back turned to him, hadn't acknowledged the Potions master yet. He was pushing around green peas with his fork and absent-mindedly watched as they rolled back and forth on his plate. Severus could tell that Harry's thoughts seemed to be wrapped around the Granger girl, but he didn't want to invade his mate's mind any further to know what exactly Harry was thinking of.

By now almost everybody was eying Harry inquisitively. Here, Severus didn't have to read anyone's mind to know why.  
Usually the communication between Harry and him consisted of a few well-placed jabs and snide remarks with neither one bothering to hide what had always seemed like mutual dislike to everybody else. But since Harry had been staying with him over the holidays, and especially after the youths' defensive little outburst last evening, everyone was curious to see with their own eyes how Harry's and his interaction with each other had changed.

But despite the fact that Harry hadn't consciously noticed him yet, Severus could still feel the tension draining from the boy's body as clearly as he had only second before, standing outside the kitchen door.  
It was textbook behavior, really. Harry's subconscious was beginning to understand what the young wizard didn't know yet and already Harry's body was reacting to Severus: _My mate is near, I'm safe, everything is okay! _

Severus felt a rush of pride, love and fierce protectiveness that he hadn't felt for Harry like this before and he understood that his own body, too, was becoming more and more willing to acknowledge what his mind had known all along: _The boy's mine!_

Unable to resist the temptation, Severus reached out and placed a gentle hand on the nape of Harry's neck.

'Evening, Potter.'

* * *

Lucius felt the beginning of a headache coming on - despite the fact that they were eating in an icy silence. 

'Kindly pass me the salt, Draco,' he said at last, more in an attempt to make conversation and restore the family peace than anything else.

Draco didn't react.

'Kindly pass the salt, Draco!' Lucius repeated, with more emphasis this time. Sulking or not, forgetting ones good manners would not be tolerated in this house.

Again, Draco didn't move.

'Son!' Lucius said sharply.

'Why don't you Accio the friggin' salt?' Draco snapped, glaring at his father defiantly.

In the stunned silence that was followed, it was hard to tell who was more shocked by Draco's reply – Draco himself or his parents.

Ever since Draco was old enough to walk and talk, he was being raised to display good manners at all times. Surely there were many a Gryffindor, Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff out there that begged to differ, but when he wanted to Draco Malfoy was the epiphany of politeness. When it mattered, anyway. Here at home, Lucius found, his son's manners certainly _did_ matter.

'Go to your room,' he said softly.

Draco got up and left the dinner table without another word.

'Was that really necessary?' Narcissa asked quietly after they heard Draco's door close upstairs.

Lucius looked up, a sharp reply ready on his tongue … when he realized that Narcissa's eyes were red and puffy. His wife had been crying and he hadn't even noticed!

Ashamed of himself, Lucius got up and crossed the room until he reached the table end at which Narcissa was sitting. He sat down on the chair next to her and took her hands into hers. Then he leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his wife's forehead.

'I know you don't approve of my decision regarding Harry Potter,' he said. 'But I won't change my mind, 'Cis. I'm trying to protect my wife and son and if that makes me a cruel and heartless bastard … then I'm happy to be one.'

Narcissa's eyes were brimming with tears as she looked up at him.

'But Draco … oh God, Lucius, he's only a child! If only you had been here to see him these last two weeks that Harry Potter was living next door with Severus. I don't think I've ever seen our son so happy before …'

Narcissa began to cry softly.

'You know how badly he always wanted to be Harry Potter's friend,' she said miserably. 'And when Harry didn't want anything to do with him, you always told Draco that it would do well to be on good terms with the boy who lived. Sometimes I wasn't even sure if Draco only wanted to be friends with the boy to impress you or because he liked him for real. And now that they _did_ become friends, you tell Draco it's not allowed. How is he supposed to understand that?'

'Both you and Draco know the reason why true friendships can n-'

'But he sees the friendship that you share with Severus every day!' Narcissa interrupted him almost pleadingly. 'You can't expect him to understand why he's not allowed to have that, too.'

'He _knows_ why he's not allowed!' Lucius disagreed heatedly.

'OH LUCIUS, HONESTLY!' Narcissa scolded loudly. 'As much as you're trying to deny it, your son is only fifteen! And he's terribly lonely! He needs a friend! A _real_ friend and not just some _'I'm pretending to be your friend because it will look good on my résumé' _- acquaintances like Pansy Parkinson or another _'I will put up with you because your parents are well-respected Death Eaters' _- friend li-'

She stopped mid-sentence and looked at her husband indignantly.

Lucius was smirking.

'What is so funny?' Narcissa demanded to know.

'You're incredibly sexy when you're angry like that, you know that?' Lucius asked conspiratorially, his voice low and his hands wandering.

'You're only trying to change the subject!' his wife snapped, but her cheeks flushed bright pink.

Lucius pulled her onto his lap in one fluid movement.

'That, I'm afraid, is very true!' he whispered and began nuzzling Narcissa's long, pale neck enthusiastically. 'Does it work?' he asked a few moments later, smiling against her throat.

Narcissa made a sound that was something between amusement and confirmation.

Lucius hands began trailing upwards. He cupped both of her small breasts in his hands and gently began kneading them through the white satin cloths of her blouse. Narcissa closed her eyes. A light smile was tugging at her lips.

'Lucius?' she asked softly.

'Yes, Beautiful?'

'You really _are_ a cruel and heartless bastard …'

'Uh-hmm.' Lucius Malfoy confirmed, his breath warm against her ear.

Narcissa sighed contentedly. '… Thank God I knew that long before I married you.'

* * *

Harry snapped out of his trance with a start. 

_Funny. His hand feels cool but it's burning like fire. _

He looked around to face Professor Snape without turning in his chair, trying to make as little movement as possible.

_Please. Don't let go just yet. Please. _

'Professor Snape! Good to see you! How are you? What are you doing here?'

_I'm babbling. _

Harry snapped his mouth shut rather abruptly and settled for beaming at his teacher instead.

'I've brought Miss Weasley something against her cold,' the Potions master answered, looking down on him. His hand was still resting calmly on Harry's neck.

'How are you doing, Potter?' he asked.

Some small and rather childish part of Harry wanted to giggle hysterically about the sheer absurdity of the fact that Severus Snape was touching _him_, Harry James Potter, willingly and without any apparent intent to kill.

Another part of him wanted to...

Okay, Harry thought mortified, so maybe _that_ particular part of his brain had temporarily gone insane.

_You need professional help, Potter. Like, seriously. _

'Fine!' Harry answered quickly, smiling broadly. 'I'm great.'

_Now I am, anyway. _

Ginny sneezed loudly.

Snape looked up at her. 'Two teaspoons three times a day, half an hour after every meal,' he instructed in a voice that left no room for objections. 'And you should start now.'

'I will. Thank you, Professor!' Ginny sniffled obediently.

Severus nodded. 'I shall leave, then,' he said, straightening up. His hand fell from Harry's neck.

_No. Wait. Stop. Don't. No. Stop. Wait. _

Harry jumped up from his chair. 'I'll come outside with you!'

Outside in the dark corridor, Harry extended his hand. 'You know, I wanted to thank you, Professor!' he said. 'And I'm really sorry I haven't done so before.'

Severus accepted the outstretched hand with a smile.

_Yes, see, that's better._

'Thanks for letting me stay with you!' Harry continued, holding the older man's hand in his. 'I had a wonderful time at Snape Manor and it was a pleasure to get to know Priya and Yulub … and … and you, too, sir.'

Harry blushed a little, but he steadily held Severus' gaze.

'I never thought I would say this one day, but you're really kinda cool!' He grinned impishly.

An amused smirk was playing at his Potion master's lips, but Snape's voice was without a trace of sarcasm when he replied: 'Likewise, Mister Potter!'

He shook the Harry's hand firmly before releasing it. 'I'll be seeing you soon.'

_Well, you better. _

Harry nodded. 'Yeah! Bye, sir. And please tell Priya I said hi. Yulub, too, of course!'

Severus opened the front door and stepped outside. 'I will do. Goodbye … and good luck tomorrow.'

Harry's face fell slightly. 'Thank you,' he mumbled.

_If they throw me out of Hogwarts, I'll just come and live with you, alright? _

'If they dispel you, I might allow you to come back to Snape Manor,' Snape said. 'I could always use another house-elf.'

He winked at Harry and closed the door behind him.

* * *

**The next day**

'Very well … cleared of all charges!'

Harry almost couldn't believe his own ears. He was cleared!

Next to Harry, Albus Dumbledore jumped up from his squashy armchair. 'Excellent!' he exclaimed. 'Well, I must be getting along. Good-day to you all.'

A flick of his wand made Dumbledore's chair disappear and then, without so much as a single glance at Harry, the Headmaster was gone.

Confused and slightly irritated by his Headmaster's strange behavior (he hadn't looked at him even once throughout the whole trial), but relieved to no end, Harry got up from the terrifying chained chair in the middle of the dungeon. With the exception of one ugly, toadlike witch that was eying him up and down and up again, nobody paid him any attention. Harry suspected that meant that he was free to go and so he turned towards the exit tentatively. When no objection followed, he fled the room as quickly as he could.

Mr. Weasley was waiting outside, looking almost as horrified as Harry had felt up until only a few minutes ago.

'CLEARED!' Harry said, smiling. 'Of all charges!'

The relief on Arthur's face was evident. 'That's wonderful!' he said, patting Harry on the shoulder enthusiastically. 'I'm glad. Let's go and celebrate!'

Grinning, Harry followed Mr. Weasley along the long corridor.

He was cleared! He wasn't expelled! He was going to go back to Hogwarts!

Harry was just turning around a corner, when he collided hard with somebody else. He was about to apologize profusely, when he saw who he had run into.

'Well, well, well … Patronus Potter!'

Lucius Malfoy.

Harry stared. The last time he had seen that man had been at the graveyard, cruelly looking on while Voldemort tortured him. He couldn't believe Lucius Malfoy's nerves! To look at him now, to talk to him! To be _here_ at the Ministry although Harry had told Fudge that Malfoy was a Death Eater only weeks ago.

'My congratulations, Mister Potter!' Lucius smirked now. 'I've heard you managed to wriggle your way out of a very tight hole yet again. Impressive, really. _Snakelike_, in fact.'

For a moment Harry indulged in a rather satisfying fantasy about attacking Lucius Malfoy, tearing open his face, ripping out his eyes and forcing them down his throat ...

Then Harry straightened and looked back at the Death Eater coolly.

'Good evening, Mister Malfoy!' he greeted politely, albeit through clenched teeth. 'My best regards and a very Happy Birthday to your wife. Please tell Draco that I'm looking forward to seeing him at Hogwarts. Goodbye.'

**_To be continued_**


	14. Pure blood

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**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter is not mine and nobody pays me for writing this.  
Unfortunately.

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Chapter 14  
**"Pure blood"**

It was a sight to behold.

Elegant dress robes made of finest velvet and silk in the most magnificent of colors swirled around the ballroom that, on every other day, was the vast Entrance Hall of the Malfoys' Mansion. Balloons floated all around the hall and over the heads of the many striking couples that drifted across the dancefloor like petals on the surface of a pond, gleaming brilliantly underneath the swanky chandeliers. Jugglers and clowns mingled with the crowd while Metamorphmaguses, dressed in spectacular costumes, were dancing on small platforms, changing their appearance with every new song.

Narcissa Malfoy's birthday party was in full swing.

Animated chattering blended with the cheerful violins of the live musicians and carried up the wide marble staircase that came down into the hall from a gallery that stretched all around the first floor. There, a boy stood leaning against one of the stony columns, overlooking the proceedings below. He too, Draco knew, offered quite a sight in his new, shimmering black dress robes that accentuated the aristocratic pallor of his skin and his silvery blonde hair beautifully.

He watched as his mother, clad in a stunning, shoulder free, metallic red gown that matched the color of her lips, was led onto the dancefloor now by Blaise Zabini's father. When Narcissa and Mr. Zabini started dancing, it immediately became evident that Blaise's dad was by no means a match to Lucius on the dancefloor. But then, Draco thought, no man dancing with his mother would ever be.

Draco had always loved to watch his parents dance with each other. He admired how their bodies seemed to communicate without words, how gracefully they moved side by side and arm in arm and how dashing they looked together. As a matter of fact, he was rather looking forward to watching them dance tonight.

Despite the fact that Mr. Zabini seemed quite fond of stepping onto his dance partner's toes, Narcissa seemed to be enjoying herself splendidly, coaxing her partner through the more complicated steps and turns of their dance with ease, laughing merrily whenever her efforts were fruitless. When she saw that Draco was watching them, she winked up at him and gave her son a small wave.

Draco smiled back. His mother was by far the most beautiful woman around, he thought proudly. None of the other witches could hold a candle to Narcissa … and by Merlin, some of them were trying pretty hard.

The Slytherin was, of course, aware of the many young female party guests that were gazing up at him in admiration, trying to catch his eye. However, Draco paid them no attention. He would take care of the ladies later - oh yes, he would - but for now he had more important matters on his mind. Matters that listened to the name of Harry Potter, to be exact.

_Oh, the irony._

Draco's gaze kept wandering over to the large double doors of the Entrance Hall below. Internally, he gave a start every time they would open (although none of the present guests would have guessed by his composed, almost bored manner), only to be disappointed every time he saw that the newly arrived visitor wasn't who he was waiting for: Lucius, returning from the Ministry of Magic at last, with news of Harry's hearing.

Suddenly two arms wrapped themselves around him, circling Draco's waist from behind.

'Hello, stud!' someone whispered into his ear.

* * *

'HE GOT OFF! HE GOT OFF! HE GOT OFF!' 

From the top of their lungs George, Fred and Ginny were shouting those three words that sounded like a blessing to Harry's ears. Needless to say, those three Weasleys weren't the only ones happy about the good news. Hermione repeatedly told Harry 'I knew it, they _had_ to clear you!' and Mrs Weasley, who was just pulling a baking sheet of steaming apple pie from the oven, kept wiping her face with her apron, muttering 'Thank Merlin! Oh, my nerves!'

Even Ron whooped triumphantly. 'You _always_ get away with stuff, mate! I _knew_ you'd get off!' he grinned at Harry who grinned back happily. Ron and him weren't exactly on the best of terms these days, with Ron still sulking over Harry's "mysterious confunded bonding" with Draco Malfoy and Professor Snape, as he called it, and so this show of loyalty meant all the more to Harry.

Sirius shook Harry's hand before pulling him into a one-armed hug. 'So it's going back to Hogwarts, eh?' he asked.

Harry nodded euphorically. 'Yes!' he beamed at his godfather. 'Yes! Isn't that great?'

Sirius's grin looked rather lopsided when he confirmed that, yes, those were great news indeed.

'Of course they couldn't convict you once Dumbledore turned up on your behalf!' Ron said now and Harry, who was just accepting a plate of pie from Mrs Weasley, nodded thoughtfully.

'No,' he said slowly. 'I guess not. He was being a little weird, though. I think he's pretty upset with me.'

Hermione and Ron frowned in disbelief and Harry noticed that Mr Weasley, Lupin and Tonks, the young Metamorphmagus sitting next to the werewolf, raised their heads to listen.

'It's just that he barely even looked at me,' Harry shrugged in explanation, trying to sound like it wasn't too big of a deal. He saw Lupin and his godfather exchange the most fleeting of glances and hoped he wasn't sounding ungrateful (not too mention childish). After all Ron was right. The Headmaster had really swung it for him! The people at the Ministry wouldn't even have given him a chance to explain himself, if it hadn't been for Dumbledore's calm and composed manner.

'Anyway,' said Arthur Weasley now. 'Lucius Malfoy was at the Ministry, Sirius. He was lurking outside the courtroom with Goyle.'

'What?' Sirius said sharply. 'Did he say anything?'

'Well, he was complimenting Harry on yet another _snakelike_ escape.'

There was a collective gasp of outrage and everyone turned to look at Harry. Harry suspected they were all thinking his new friendship with Lucius's son.

_Draco's not his father, for crying out loud!_

'And what did you say?' Sirius demanded, looking at Harry.

Harry glanced around the kitchen table before looking back at his godfather defiantly.

'I told him to wish his wife a Happy Birthday.'

* * *

Draco grinned appreciatively. 

'Why, you got that right,' he answered with all the modesty that was his own, and turned around in the embrace to face the girl behind him. He leaned back and looked her up and down meticulously (the girl's cheeks flushed rather brilliantly) before saying:

'Why, you're not looking too shabby yourself either, Miss Pansy Parkinson!'

He bent down to kiss her. But then he imagined the collective sigh of regret that no doubt went through crowd below them now and had to break the kiss quickly, unable to hide a roguish grin.

'What?' his fellow Slytherin asked self-consciously.

'Nothing,' Draco lied with a small chuckle. 'Happy to see you, that's all.'

Pansy rolled her eyes. ''Yes, _of course_! If you've missed me so much, why didn't you ever call me, huh?' She waggled an index finger between Draco's nose and her own frown.

_Huh? Oh, right. Pansy was his _girlfriend_. You were supposed to do _stuff_ with your girlfriend. You know, Malfoy, the whole romance stuff like staying in touch and all that nonsense._

Draco raised his eyebrows at the girl. '_Call_ you?' he asked mockingly. 'Like a lovesick Muggle, you mean?'

Pansy's face took on the color of a ripe tomato.

'Slip of tongue,' she muttered. 'Don't change the subject, though, you know damn well what I mean!' she snapped then, swatting him on the chest. She wriggled out of his embrace, but she didn't looking too angry, as Draco noted with relief.

Pansy was a nice enough girl and he liked her all right, but he wasn't in love with her and Draco sincerely hoped that sentiment was mutual. He suspected that it was.

While their relationship hadn't exactly been an arrangement between their fathers, Draco viewed it as an arrangement just the same.  
As much as some wizards hated to admit it, true pure-bloods were getting scarce in the wizarding world and already parents were looking for a good catch to marry their children off with.

A Malfoy offspring was the definition of a good catch if there ever was one – and Draco knew it.

He was rich and his parents were well-respected. He was brought up well, handsome and smart and would probably end up in some high profile position or other one day. And so Draco grew up to being eyed like "a breeding dog on window display" (as Pansy so bluntly liked to put it), always knowing that most of the attention he was getting from girls, and especially their parents, stemmed from him being the "perfect pure-blood match to marry".  
The ones that weren't hoping to be Mrs. Draco Malfoy one day, Draco reckoned, were probably just unable to resist his animal magnetism, although he didn't often feel the urge to find out. And that's where Pansy came into play.

His "officially being taken off the market" kept all the lovesick, little Slytherin girls at Hogwarts at bay. And Pansy, who was in no hurry to be married off either, didn't have to spend her time trying to impress other pure-blood boys or having to shake same off, for that matter.

'So why didn't you ever show yourself these holidays or dropped me a line or ….?' Pansy's voice trailed off.

'Called you?' Draco smirked.

'Yes!' Pansy nodded defiantly, grimacing at him. 'Or were you too busy getting onto somebody else's nerves for a change?'

'Actually … I was.'

'Oh? Well, and who was she?' Pansy asked with mock testiness.

'He,' Draco corrected.

'_He?'_

Draco nodded. 'He.'

'Oooooh!' Pansy said, feigning comprehension. 'So you're into guys now!'

Draco grinned amusedly and held up his hands in a defending manner. 'I'm only spreading the love, darling! Who am I to withhold this gorgeousness from anyone?' he asked, gesturing up and down himself with one hand, winking at her.

Pansy snorted in mild indignation.

'So who was _he _then?' she asked, poking Draco between the rips.

The Slytherin just contemplated to entertain her with a story of how he spent the last two weeks with Harry Potter and was now head over heels in love with the Gryffindor (which was so unbelievable, Pansy wouldn't even believe the half-truth that was hidden in this tale), when they were distracted by a great crescendo of noise.

Lucius Malfoy had arrived.

'Awww, look how happy your father's fan club is now! Aren't they cute?' Pansy sneered as they watched how Lucius was instantly swarmed by a small group of people all trying to shake his hand or catch his attention in some way or other.

'Those Death Eaters are pathetic!' she said contemptuously and Draco nodded.

Lucius, however, simply ignored his "fans" as he made his way through the dancing crowd. He only had eyes for one person … and that person was his wife.

The two teenagers watched as Lucius approached Draco's mother and Mr. Zabini and cut in politely. He took Narcissa's hand and kissed it lightly, bowing courteously. Narcissa smiled, curtsied gracefully and then the couple began to dance. People interrupted their own dance and turned their heads to watch Lucius and Narcissa whirl by with flawless poise, gazing deeply into each others eyes.

Next to Draco, Pansy heaved a smitten sigh.

'I know,' Draco said proudly. Then he took her by the hand. 'Let's go downstairs.'

* * *

'I mean, honestly, what was I supposed to do? Scream for an Auror?' 

Harry sat on his knees in front of an old moldy cupboard on the third floor, scrubbing out the bottom shelf with much gusto. He felt extremely misunderstood, angry and - admittedly - a bit sorry for himself. Whatever he was doing, it was always wrong, wasn't it?

Sirius had told Harry he must have lost his mind to exchange pleasantries with Lucius Malfoy, a Death Eater who had (not too long ago) unblinkingly watched him being tortured by Voldemort, just because Harry was smitten with Malfoy's rotten offspring all of a sudden; Remus Lupin had advised him to keep his head down (provoking a Death Eater could only ever end in a disaster and nowhere else) and Ron … Ron had once again spluttered something about Harry being 'confunded … like, seriously!'

Why couldn't they all just leave him alone … _like, seriously?_

Hermione, who sat beside him, interrupted her own scrubbing to look at him. Wiping a strand of hair from her forehead with the back of her hand, she said: 'Personally, I think you've handled yourself really well.'

'Do you?'

Hermione nodded. 'And I believe that Sirius secretly thinks so, too. Only he can't tell you that, because he's your godfather and has to show some responsibility.'

Harry snorted discreetly into the moldy cupboard.

'Think about it,' Hermione went on, 'You telling Lucius Malfoy to send your regards to his wife was more or less a way to tell him to …'

'Fuck off?' Harry offered helpfully, grinning.

For a moment Harry thought Hermione would scold him for his language, but his friend smiled back mischievously.  
'Exactly! And that's something that Sirius would've done himself if given the chance, don't you think?'

Before Harry could agree, the door behind them was thrown open and the twins came inside, carrying a box between them. Sirius, Ron and Ginny came walking in after them. Sirius looked distinctly amused as he closed the door behind them all.

'Oi!' George called over to Harry and Hermione. 'We've found a box of Sirius's old stuff!'

He and Fred dropped the box on the floor and the Weasleys and Harry's godfather gathered around it. Hermione and Harry joined them quickly, happy about any excuse to abandon the smelly cupboard.

Sirius lifted the cover from the box and they all gazed inside.

Old school books, rolls of parchment, notebooks, a few wizard magazines and a whole bunch of pictures seemed to make for the greater part of the contents. Scattered upon them were a few tiny tin soldiers, who groaned in protest and grumpily shielded their eyes from the sudden incidence of light.

'Sorry mates!' Fred said unconcernedly and wiped them aside with his hand. They toppled to the bottom of the box and when George started shuffling the contents around, their squeaking insults where quickly drowned.

The twins pulled out one of Sirius's old school notebooks and began flipping through it. Ron dived for an ancient issue of "Teen Wizard" and Hermione for an Arythmancy book that looked suspiciously unused, while Ginny attempted to rescue the small soldiers from suffocation.

Harry pulled out a stack of letters that were held together by a crumpled, green ribbon. He flipped through them and saw that the same thing was written on every envelope: _"To Narcissa from Lucius"_.

Harry looked at Sirius in surprise. 'Why do you have these?'

When his godfather saw the letters that Harry was holding, he ripped them from his godson's hands. 'Kreacher!' he spat. 'Must have kept them. Junk!' He threw the letters aside carelessly.

Kreacher was the Black's resident house-elf, but people did well not to mistake him with the likes of Dobby or Yulub. Kreacher was as vile as Sirius' deceased mother must have been. And just as racist.

'But … why …?'

'You know how he is,' said Sirius gruffly. 'Likes to keep things in the family.'

Of course Harry knew that Kreacher had the habit of collecting and piling up what Professor Lupin liked to call the "Memorabilia of Sirius's black past" that Sirius or anyone else had just thrown away to rot. But why would Kreacher keep something that obviously belonged to Narcissa Malfoy? How did those letters get here in the first place?

Sirius's hard face softened upon seeing the puzzled expressions on his godson's face. He got up from the floor and went over to the moldy cupboard. Climbing on a chair next to it, he began patting the top of the wardrobe searchingly with one hand.  
Harry took the opportunity to slip the bundle of letters into the waistband of his jeans, safely hidden underneath the extra-large t-shirt he was wearing. He would give them to Draco once they were back at Hogwarts. It just didn't seem right that something this personal was lying around at _this_ place for whatever reason.  
A few second later, Sirius pulled what looked like a rolled up piece of old carpet from the cupboard. He scrunched up his face at its apparently atrocious smell and jumped from the chair. Then he rolled out the carpet next to Harry, coughing loudly when clouds of dust came flying out.

Harry saw that the carpet was really a tapestry.

"_The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black – Toujours pur"_ was written on top of it. Embroidered underneath the large golden letters was a large family tree. Harry looked at it.

'You're not on here!' he said finally.

Sirius grinned and pointed at a small hole in the tapestry. 'I was here,' he said. 'Before my mother blasted me off.'

'Why did she do that?' asked Hermione who had joined them in front of the tapestry.

'I ran away from home when I was sixteen,' Sirius answered, sounding proud. 'I couldn't stand this place any longer; my parents and my idiot brother with their constant talk about the purity of blood and how it made us so much better than the rest of …' He grinned at Hermione apologetically. '… all those mudbloods. And so I left and I stayed with your dad's family instead.'

Harry looked at him in surprise. 'You did?'

Sirius smiled. 'I sure did! Your grandparents kind of adopted me after that. Anyway, what I wanted to show you …'

He scanned the tapestry and then stabbed a finger at it. 'Here!'

Harry looked at the name underneath Sirius's finger. It read 'Narcissa Black'. A double line linked her name to that of Lucius Malfoy and a single vertical line led to the name Draco.

Harry stared.

'You're related to the Malfoys?'

He glanced over at Hermione who looked just as stunned.

Sirius nodded. 'Narcissa Malfoy is my first cousin. Which makes Draco Malfoy my …' He stopped to think.

'Your first cousin once removed,' Hermione said quietly and Sirius nodded again. 'Exactly.'

Harry still couldn't believe it. 'Draco is your cousin?'

'Don't you expect a family get-together now!' Sirius warned. 'All pure-bloods are related somehow,' he snorted contemptuously. 'There are hardly any left and if you're only going to marry another pure-blood, your choice is very limited.'

Again, Harry and Hermione exchanged a fleeting glance. Hermione blushed faintly.

Suddenly roaring laughter from behind them diverted their attention and Sirius, Harry and Hermione turned around.

Ron and the twins were practically rolling on the floor, howling and pointing at an open book in front of them. Ginny, however, looked rather angry. 'STOP IT!' she yelled frustratedly. 'Oh, you're so immature!'

'What's going on?' Harry grinned. Ginny looked at him miserably, but she didn't answer.

Sirius got up and picked up the book from between the laughing teenagers.

'An old Hogwarts yearbook,' he said fondly. 'Look, Harry, there's a picture of your parents and me at the prom. Oh gosh, look at my -'  
He stopped suddenly, examining one of the pictures closely. 'But I take it you were not laughing at my horrible haircut,' he then said slowly to the Weasley siblings who were still on all fours with laughter. He briefly looked over at Harry before looking back down on the book in his hands.

'Noooo!' Ron wailed now. 'We're laughing about Snaaaape!'

Harry got up abruptly.

'He's … he's …. dancing with a … dancing with a booooy!' Ron panted.

Hermione got up as well and took the yearbook from Sirius, looking at the picture herself.

'So?' she asked testily, glaring at Ron and handing the book over to Harry who stood next to her. 'What's wrong with that? Many wizarding dances are being …'

'Hermioneeeee!' Fred howled. 'He's dancing with a boy as in … his prom date was a boy. His date! A _BOY!_'

Ron slapped the carpet in a fit of giggles. Ginny clicked her tongue impatiently.

Harry stared at the moving pictures.

It was true. There, a young Severus Snape was dancing with another boy (a Slytherin, too, judging by the trademark colors of his robes), although Harry didn't see a reason for any bouts of hysteria. Personally, he thought the two young men looked handsome and rather graceful as they moved across the dancefloor in great, elegant strides.

Something began stirring in his chest.

At last the laughter subsided.

'So are you telling us that old Snape's gay?' George asked Sirius, sounding positively delighted.

Harry became very still.

'I don't know …' Sirius said evasively, not meeting Harry's eyes.

'OH SIRIUS, COME ON!' the twins protested.

Sirius smirked lightly. 'Oh, alright, so he probably is.'

The twins and Ron whooped enthusiastically.

Fred got up, holding a stitch from laughing so hard. 'And this guy …' he took the book from Harry and looked at it once more. '… this _William Copley_ … was that Snape's boyfriend then?'

The two girls were the only ones who noticed that Harry's face had gone ash white.

Sirius shrugged. 'Probably,' he sneered in mild contempt. 'William Copley was _definitely_ as queer as they come.'

Suddenly his eyes widened in shock and flew towards Harry. He gulped.

Harry stared back at him.

Then he turned around and left.

**_To be continued_**


	15. Get out while you can

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**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter is not mine and nobody pays me for writing this. Unfortunately.

The title was once more stolen from the incredible 'Starsailor'.

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Chapter 15  
**"Get out while you can"**

_Will I ever learn to keep my mouth shut? _

Sirius Black was furious with himself. Wasn't it enough yet that the inability to think before speaking had once upon a time almost gotten someone killed and him thrown out of Hogwarts? Wasn't it enough that it had turned Pettigrew into James's and Lily's secret keeper? Wasn't it enough that it had landed him a cell in Azkaban?

_Apparently not._

Now his big fat mouth had scared off the person he cared for most in this world, too.

_Good job, Sirius._

Sirius poured himself another glass of firewiskey and leaned back in his chair, petting Buckbeak, who was snoring quietly by his side, resignedly. He had really blown it! Sirius wasn't completely sure of it, but he was almost certain that, up until now, he had been the only one Harry had ever confided in about being gay.  
Okay, so the boy hadn't straight out confirmed it the day he told Sirius about his soulmate theory, but he hadn't denied it either – and Sirius knew something that Harry didn't. The kid was meant to be with Snape one day (as much as Sirius was trying to deny it), a small but not unimportant fact that made his godson gay with rather profound certainty.

_And I go and jab at queer folks. Smooth, real smooth!_

Sirius drowned his glass in one long gulp and reached for the bottle once more. It was probably about high time he lay off badmouthing Snape, too, the Animagus thought with much regret. _'At least in front of Harry,'_ he compromised quickly, already revolted at the prospect of having to be civil with his archenemy of many years. What fun did he have left in life if he wasn't even allowed to take the mickey out of Snivellus Snape?

_The fun of my own godson not hating my guts, that's what._

If how fondly Harry was talking about the Potions master these days or how quickly he went through the roof as soon as anyone made even the tiniest joke about the old git was any indication, then Harry wasn't far from realizing who his soulmate was.

_Let's not to forget the way his face lights up like the tip of an ignited wand every time Snape's around._

No, there probably wasn't a way around it. Sirius Black had to finally start thinking before opening his mouth if he didn't want to lose James Potter's son forever.

* * *

It took a small gesture to make Draco Malfoy feel doubly fond of his surroundings. 

The party suddenly seemed funnier, the music suddenly sounded better, the girls suddenly looked prettier … and all because Lucius had given him that small, universal sign of "Everything's okay!" from across the ballroom – a thumb raised towards the ceiling.

Harry Potter was going back to Hogwarts. And safely with his wand, too.

_And life's pretty good, actually._

A small bounce in his steps, Draco left Pansy to dance with Theodore and made his way upstairs again, where the buffet smelled as alluring as it looked … suddenly. He piled a plate with all the delectabilities he could fit upon and then went to find a quiet corner to sit in. He found it in the piano room on the second floor that – thankfully - lay deserted by the many party guests.

The Slytherin sat down on the side of the piano bench with his back to the instrument and began munching away contentedly. His thoughts quickly wandered off to the new school term that lay ahead of him. Only two more days!  
Draco felt the familiar stir of excitement in his stomach that he felt whenever he thought of Hogwarts these days. _These days _after Potter's departure from Snape Manor, that was.

Things were going to change, Draco could _feel_ it already. As much as he hated to disobey his father's orders, this was HIS life and he had made up his mind.

He would be friends with Harry!

By Merlin, he would be such a good friend to Potter that the Gryffindor would forget all about that imbecile of a Weasley! And maybe, just maybe, then the little mudblood would also see, just like Harry did now, that Draco was really an all right guy.

_Is it September 1st yet?_

Draco was just down to his last bite of chicken, when suddenly things happened all at once.  
He _just_ had the very odd sensation that the empty space next to him on the piano bench was suddenly being weighted down as though somebody else was sitting on it, when the piano behind him already started playing and the outline of another body began to softly press into his back.

Draco froze, too stunned to move.

'Hurry up, wolverine, and play with me!' a voice behind him said now and Draco felt the little nudge of an elbow in his spine, while the piano continued to play a merry little tune that Draco had never heard before.

Slowly Draco turned his head.

It was only thanks to his excellent Malfoy/Slytherin/Son of a Death Eater composure that he did not drop his plate onto the stone floor …

* * *

The old oak nightstand next to Harry's bed didn't take the assault too well. It cracked and began to sway theatrically when Harry's foot collided with its bottom drawer. It collapsed when the angry teenager kicked it once more for good measure. 

When he was done abusing rotting furniture, Harry collapsed face flat onto his bed and buried his nose in his pillow.

Oh, he was so mad at his friends for making fun of Professor Snape!

_Had it been ME dancing with Severus, would they be laughing just as much now?_

And screw Sirius, too, for being so homophobic it would make uncle Vernon proud.

_Had it been ME dancing with Severus, would Sirius be curling his lip at me now?_

But soon the anger blazing inside of him was replaced by something far different, although Harry had a difficult time placing the feeling that was turmoiling in his chest.

Why was it that his heart suddenly felt so heavy? Why did he feel like crying? And why did he feel like he was locked inside the cupboard again? Locked inside the cupboard underneath the stairs on Christmas day and listening to Dudley riding his brand new, shiny red bicycle across the living room, to be exact.

_What boring kind of name is William Copley anyway?_

The very same bicycle that Harry had wanted so badly, that he had performed the most tedious _and_ strenuous chores all year long, because his aunt and uncle had _promised_ him he could earn himself the bike for Christmas.

… _asked the boy called Harry Potter!_

But that was ridiculous, childish and made no sense whatsoever, did it? He had been eight years old then, he was fifteen now! And who needed a bike when he could fly on a broomstick anyway?

_Hmpfh! Well, at least I'm better looking._

And why did he feel so terribly alone all of a sudden?

* * *

'HARRY?' 

'Yes, Draco?' replied the other boy on the piano bench conversationally, sounding completely unconcerned.

Draco gulped. 'Erm … no offence …' he said tentatively. 'But … what the bloody freaking' hell are you doing here?'

'What does it _sound_ like I'm doing?' asked Harry with an amused smile as he turned to look at Draco. The Gryffindor was just about to turn back to the piano, when his eyes did a double take on Draco's appearance.

'When did you change?' he asked, furrowing his brows in mild confusion. 'I haven't even noticed.'

'You haven't even noticed?' Draco croaked. 'Well, and I haven't bloody even noticed that you've learned to Apparate during the summer holidays, Potter! Not to mention Apparate right into a house that's surrounded by the most ancient and, dare I say, cunning magical wards ever invented!'

His voice had a slightly hysterical ring to it.

'Oh, and let's not oversee the fact that you've Apparated right into a house that is swamped with Death Eaters at this very moment, all of who can't wait to get their hands ON YOUR SCRAWNY, LITTLE NECK, POTTER!

For a moment Harry looked thoroughly befuddled, but then something in his head seemed to click.

'Wow!' he said, sounding awestruck. 'And I thought only Sev could …'

His voice trailed off as he looked around the room with wide eyes. 'What day is it today?' he asked.

'Saturday?' replied Draco weakly.

'Right. And what date?'

'The 30th of August 1995?'

Harry started grinning. 'I've travelled right into Narcissa's birthday party, haven't I?'

Draco gulped. 'Yes. You … _travelled_? What does _that_ mean? How did you get here?'

Harry looked at him thoughtfully. 'Promise me you're not going to freak out,' he said after a moment's silence.

'What, you mean more than I already have?' Draco squeaked.

Harry nodded, grinning broadly.

'Talk to me, Potter …' Draco said resignedly.

'Okay so …,' Harry began tentatively, 'I haven't Apparated here. I've travelled back into time.'

'PARDON ME?'

'Calm down,' Harry laughed, holding up his hands. 'Just listen, okay? Have you been thinking about me right before I appeared?' he asked. 'I mean, like, thinking about me quite intensely?'

'NO!' Draco answered indignantly as though the mere suggestion was an insult.

Still, Harry looked deeply amused. 'You haven't?'

'No,' Draco said again, but this time it sounded more like a question than a confident reply.

Harry's smirk reminded Draco suspiciously of his own when the Gryffindor said: 'Well, then my theory must be wrong after all. Because, you see, I've originally come to the conclusion that I only travel back into time spontaneously when two things occur in tandem: an other person in the past has to be thinking of me strongly and that particular moment of their time has to be similar to what I'm doing in the future right before I travel.'

Harry looked at Draco expectantly, but the Slytherin's face was blank.

'I have no idea what you just said.'

Harry smiled. 'Alright, so … in _my_ time, which is about three years from now, I was also sitting on this very chair at this very piano in this very house,' he explained. 'And you were also sitting next to me just like you do now and eating, too. I mean, your future you, obviously.'

'Obviously,' Draco echoed numbly.

Harry looked on Draco's plate. 'Well, only you were eating a sandwich.'

Draco abruptly placed his plate filled with colorful salads (courtesy of Priya Roshan) on the piano. 'Wait!' he said with a small shake of his head. 'So you're saying I _called_ you here or something?'

'Yes, in a way. At least that's what I reckon; Sev and I haven't really figured it out yet.'

Draco was too stunned to notice the rather intimate reference to his godfather. His head was spinning. 'Well …,' he said after a while, eyeing Harry closely. 'You _do_ look older, now that you've mentioned it.'

'I hope so,' Harry grinned.

'How do I know you're not one of the Dark Lord's minions on Polyjuice? I mean …you're _really_ Harry Potter, aren't you?'

Draco poked Harry's arm suspiciously as if that could prove anything. Harry chuckled lightly.

'I swear, I'm _really_ Harry Potter! I know something about you that not even the Dark Lord could ever find out if he used Legilimency on you for hours.'

'Oh yeah?' Draco raised his eyebrows suspiciously. 'And what could that be?'

Harry leaned in and whispered something into the Slytherin's ear.

'THAT IS JUST RIDICULOUS!' Draco bellowed; his face suddenly hard underneath his trademark contemptuous sneer.

Harry held up a stopping hand. 'AAAAND …' he said loudly to make himself heard. '…the feeling is entirely mutual.'

Draco blinked.

'Trust me, I know.' Harry grinned mischievously. 'I guess you could say … I've been there.'

They sat side by side in silence for a while.

'So have you've been able to time-travel all your life?' Draco asked finally. 'Where did you learn to do it?'

Harry shook his head. 'No. The Harry Potter of _your_ time doesn't do it yet, if that's what you're wondering. It started only quite recently… well … some day soon in your time, I mean,' he answered vaguely. 'It was kind of … an accident.'

The Gryffindor squirmed in his seat uncomfortably and Draco decided not to press the matter. He had a far more important question to ask after all.

'Harry, listen …! You said that Granger …'

His voice trailed off and he began studying his perfectly manicured hands interestedly before changing his course abruptly.

'You said that you'll be sitting here with me in three years time. So does that mean that you and me … will we be … are we friends, then?'

'Most definitely!' Harry said warmly.

'It's just that my father said …'

Harry's green eyes twinkled. 'Lucius will come around, don't worry.'

They smiled at each other.

And then, suddenly, something inside Draco's memory fell into place. 'MERLIN'S BEARD!' he exclaimed. 'It was YOU that …'

But Harry had already disappeared.

* * *

A few minutes after Harry had crawled underneath the covers of his bed at number 12, Grimmauld Place, vowing to never get up _ever_ again, there was a soft knock against his door. 

'Harry, is everything okay?' Hermione asked worriedly.

_No it's not. I'm the gay boy with a godfather that is repulsed by "queers" and friends who fall apart laughing at the sight of two men dancing with each other; not to mention the gay boy with a soulmate that hates his guts. Oh, and did I mention that I think I'm quite possibly gay?_

'Yes,' Harry lied. 'Of course everything's okay. Why shouldn't it be?'

'Can we come in, then?'

'No!' Harry yelled quickly. 'I'm sleeping. I'm fine. Honest. I'm fine. Splendid.'

The door opened. 'We're coming in!' Ginny announced quite needlessly.

'Go away …,' a small voice protested from underneath the sheets.

Hermione and Ginny exchanged a knowing glance and climbed onto Harry's bed, pushing the boy's feet to the side vigorously, earning themselves another muffled protest as they did so.

'Harry James Potter!' Ginny said sternly. 'We need to talk.'

Harry thought it wise not to answer.

_Pretend you're not there. Pretend you're asleep. Pretend you're dead._

'Harry,' Hermione chimed in. 'You _know_ that Ron and the others can be a bit insensitive sometimes.'

'Your point being?' Harry replied grumpily.

Ginny rolled her eyes. 'We think you know damn well-'

Two loud cracks interrupted her, announcing that the twins had Apparated right next to Harry's bed.

'Oi!' Fred greeted, grinning mischievously. 'What's crackin'?'

'Your skull if you don't Apparate right back where you coming from right this instant,' Ginny threatened unblinkingly.

'My, my, little one, they should've placed you in Slytherin with a mouth like that,' George replied respectfully. Then he threw himself on Harry's bed (_'Ouch!'_) and conversationally said: 'Anyway … speaking of evil Slytherins!'

He patted the Harry's sheets somewhere in the approximate direction of the sulking Gryffindor's head.

'I take it we're quite smitten with the Slytherin's Head of House, aren't we, young Harry?' he asked jovially, winking at Fred who chuckled silently. The girls stared at George, both their mouths forming a little O of disbelief at George's directness.

'I have no idea what you're talking about,' Harry replied quietly from somewhere underneath the covers.

'That means yes,' George said matter-of-factly.

'No!' Harry mumbled rebelliously. 'That means no.'

George grinned. 'Oh, I'm sorry. Of course I meant to say that you have a bad crush on Draco Malfoy. My mistake.'

A second later the covers were tossed to the side and Harry sat up like a jack-in-a-box, his face bright red.

'I DO NOT HAVE A CRUSH ON DRACO MALFOY!' he roared.

'See,' George smiled kindly. '_That_ is your very own subtle way of saying no. But when you say _'I have no idea what you're talking about!'_ (his voice dropped to a very bad-tempered murmur as he copied Harry's previous statement with astounding accuracy) … everyone knows that what you really mean is _'I will never admit you're right'_.'

Harry stared at him.

'You must have left a big chunk of your brain behind when you Apparated here,' he stated with indignation before disappearing underneath the covers once more.

'Witty, young Harry,' George grinned. 'As I was saying!' he said then, getting up from Harry's bed. 'Now that we've got the question of your sexual preference out of the way …'

Once more Harry sat up with a start. 'I DO NOT HAVE A SEXUAL PREFERENCE!' he barked. He blushed furiously. 'I mean … I mean I don't … OH GET LOST! LEAVE! OUT! VANISH!'

'…it's time for Fred and I to apologize for our rather childish behaviour earlier on and explain ourselves,' George continued, completely unfazed.

Ginny sat up straight. 'That I need to hear!' she said sarcastically. Hermione nodded in agreement. Even Harry looked at him expectantly, crossing his arms in front of him.

'Well?' he said.

'You see, you will have to forgive Fred for laughing at the sight of our all dearest Potions master dancing with another man. Or rather, at the sight of Snape, _period_,' George began, patting his twin brother on the back while Fred obviously had a hard time keeping a straight face.  
'…. because, frankly, Fred will laugh at anything and everything that proves that Professor Snape is indeed a human being with actual feelings and, dare I say, a sex life.'

At that Fred snickered impishly.

'Oh, come on!' he protested when Harry frowned at him. 'Don't tell me you saw Snape as anything other than the foul, old Potions teacher who likes to eat First Years for breakfast before you actually got to know him better.'

Harry bit his lips. 'No,' he admitted. 'I guess I didn't.'

'Me,' George continued. 'While I am admittedly amused over the fact that Professor Snape had the guts _and_ the grace to appear at the prom with another man for his date, I'm also very much in awe over it. I say, a stunt like that deserves the respect from every Gryffindor. Either way, I'm beside myself with glee. That nice, little picture was exactly the proof I needed to win one third of a bet that has been floating around the Gryffindor common room for a long time. Actually, I believe I've won two third of the bet just now,' he said, looking at his twin brother triumphantly.

Fred heaved a sigh. 'Rub it in!' he grumbled.

'What bet?' Harry asked suspiciously.

George grinned mischievously. 'The bet that the mutual animosity between Professor Snape and his favourite student to pick on – namely you, Potter Junior – will one day turn into passionate lust.'

Harry's mouth dropped open.

Hermione hid her blushing face in her hands and groaned.

Ginny giggled softly.

'I … you … what … honestly … no idea what you're talking about!' Harry stuttered incoherently. And then, indignantly: 'What do you mean you won two third of that bet now, anyway?'

'Well, we know now that Snape is indeed not beyond shagging someone not quite so … _female_.'

'GEORGE!' Hermione said scandalized.

'And from the looks and sound of it, neither are you.' George finished matter-of-factly, grinning at Harry.

For a moment Harry wondered whether or not it was possible to die of embarrassment.

'Hence, two third! Now all I'm waiting for is the day when you'll tell me that you've made hot and passionate love to our Potions master and I'm a rich man,' George continued. 'Well, me and Dean are. Well, me and Dean and Angelina and … never mind. You get the idea.'

He winked at Harry, but when he saw the younger Gryffindor's mortified face, he became serious. 'Anyway … as for Sirius; I'm sure he has no problem with you being gay … or even with the fact that _Snape_ is gay. I think the problem he has is Snape himself and not who he goes to bed with …'

Harry cringed.

'… However, that could mean that he'll have a _tiny_ problem with you being in love with dear, old Sevy. The two don't exactly seem to be on speaking terms.'

Harry opened his mouth to protest that he was NOT in love with Snape, thank you very much, but then he closed it again. What if George was right?

_Was_ he in love with Professor Snape?

'Well, and Ron?' George said now. 'I guess we can all agree on him being a green, inexperienced teenager with the emotional range of a garden troll for the time being. I'm fairly sure it will take him a while to wrap his little head around the fact that his best mate is playing on _that_ side of the Quidditch pitch … but he'll grow up eventually, I'm sure.'

Harry nodded distractedly.

_Did_ he have a crush on Severus? Was that what it was?

But … wasn't he supposed to have a soulmate? How could he have feelings for somebody else then?

'_Well,'_ Harry thought defiantly. _'If you can live without me, I can certainly live without you. Just watch me!'_

Just then the door opened and Ron walked in. He looked around in surprise as he saw the assembly of siblings and friends. 'What's up?' he greeted carefully.

'Nothing!' Ginny and Hermione chorused.

'Not much!' Fred and George echoed.

'I'm gay!' Harry said confidently.

* * *

It took Draco a while to process what had just happened. 

He had just spoken to a future version of Harry Potter.

A Harry Potter who was his friend.  
A friend who would come to visit him at home.  
A friend who was apparently accepted by Lucius.  
A real, perfectly normal friend.

_Oh boy!_

He _had_ to find his mother and tell her. Oh, to see the look on Narcissa's face!

Giddy with excitement, Draco got up and fled from the room. He ran down the stairs and onto the first floor, where he rushed past some party guests that were lounging on small couches near the large buffet. He sped across the gallery towards the next flight of stairs that lead to the ballroom on the ground floor, when suddenly he tripped over the hem of his long robes. Draco began to stumble and would have lost his balance … but someone grabbed him by the arm and stopped him from falling.

'Easy, young Malfoy, easy!'

Draco turned around and found himself looking at his fellow Slytherin Vincent Crabbe's father. As the result of many years of training in dealing with Death Eaters, Draco's body immediately went on auto-pilot and, in the blink of an eye, the teenager regained his balance – both physically and mentally. Straightening up, he stiffly greeted: 'Good evening, Mr. Crabbe. What a pleasure to see you.'

'Why, the pleasure is all mine!' Mr. Crabbe grinned broadly, revealing a row of crooked, grey teeth.

'_He should go and see Granger's parents,'_ Draco thought fleetingly. 'Thank you for your help,' he said instead.

'You know, son,' the Death Eater said jovially now. 'You were _just_ the man I was looking for.'

'Really! What is it I can do for you, sir?' Draco drawled lazily; fully aware that Crabbe Sr.'s hand was still resting on his arm.

The staccato beat of Draco's heart was resounding in his ears …

* * *

One of the drawbacks of being a friend to the Malfoys, Severus thought grudgingly as he fought his way through the celebrating crowd, were the social obligations that came with the friendship.  
Having to make a speech in front of a good two hundred wedding guests as the groom's best man was one thing; having to teach a little boy of five how to use Occlumency in order to protect his mind another. But having to socialize with two dozen Death Eaters all mourning his soulmate's narrow escape from death (all the while pretending to be deeply amused by their countless accounts – one more gruesome than the next - of how the Dark Lord had tortured Harry that night) was putting their friendship to a test, Severus found. 

After expressing his deepest regrets for having missed the spectacle of Harry Potter being crucio'd for what seemed like the fifteenth time that evening, Severus felt violently sick.

His ordeal wasn't made easier by the fact that, miles away from here, Harry seemed to be extremely unhappy over something. Oh, that blasted good-for-nothing dogfather of a Black! Harry had stayed at Snape Manor for two whole weeks without ever having so much as a bad night's sleep, but less than forty-eight hours at Black's house, and the boy was once more reduced to being a nervous wreck - on an evening when he should be celebrating. It was maddening!

Even more maddening, of course, was the fact that Severus wasn't able to check on his mate or at least use his Legilimency to find out the reason for Harry's distress. At this moment the protection of his own thoughts and feelings with the help of Occlumency required all of his concentration and was all that mattered. After all, if anyone in here would realize that his satisfied sneer of _'Potter will get what he deserves soon enough!'_ was nothing but a front; they would all be in trouble.

He noticed that Lucius was watching him from the other side of the room and he raised his glass in salute. He didn't have it in him to smile. Social niceties were something others could bother with. Lucius returned the toast and nodded solemnly. _I'm sorry, old friend_, this gesture meant.

Suddenly the blonde man's gaze travelled upwards to a point above Severus. The Legilimens knew his friend well enough to see the almost unnoticeable change in the other Slytherin's posture: Lucius's face went cold and his blue eyes turned to steel as he stared fixedly at someone or something on the first floor.

Severus turned unobtrusively and followed his friend's gaze.

Draco was standing on the gallery upstairs talking to Crabbe. The old Death Eater invading the boy's personal space dangerously …

* * *

'It has come to my attention that Mr. Potter is speaking of you rather fondly these days,' Crabbe said conversationally. 

'Mr. Potter, sir?' Draco asked as though he had never heard of the name before, his face blissfully blank.

The hand on his arm fastened its grip ever so slightly.

'_Harry_ Potter?' Mr. Crabbe volunteered. His tone was kind and conversational, but his grey eyes narrowed dangerously.

Draco felt the little hairs on his neck begin to rise. 'What about him?' he asked innocently.

_Merlin, please don't let him have spied on Harry and me just now. Please don't let him have spied on-_

'Your father and I had the pleasure of meeting the boy who dared to live at the Ministry today, did you know?' Crabbe interrupted Draco's mental chant. Draco shook his head nonchalantly and the Death Eater continued. 'Your father, ever so polite, congratulated the little brat on his unexpected and, dare I say, brilliant escape. And do you know what Mr. Potter's answer was?'

The Death Eater's hand was still burning an imaginary hole through Draco's brand new dress robes.

Draco's upper lip curled into the trademark Malfoy sneer. 'Well,' he spat contemptuously. 'Knowing Potter's simple-mindedness, it was probably something very rude, very childish and very dumb.'

Draco _heard_ his own blood rushing through his veins as he waited for Crabbe's reply. _'You idiotic Gryffindor!'_ he thought desperately. _'What did you do this time?'_

'On the contrary,' Crabbe replied, letting go of Draco at last. 'What he did was to send his regards to your dear mother and wish her a happy birthday.'

Draco would have laughed out loud if the situation hadn't been so dangerous.

Instead he raised his eyebrows in some kind of lazy surprise. 'Did he now?' Draco drawled. 'Why, isn't that sweet? Though I must admit that I'm not quite sure why you're telling me this.'

'He also asked your father to tell you that he's looking forward to seeing you again at Hogwarts.'

This time, Draco didn't know whether to laugh or to cry.

'Mr. Crabbe,' he replied, making sure he looked appropriately confused. 'Not to be rude, but … I _still_ don't understand why you're telling me all this.'

Crabbe was grinning broadly now. 'Oh, young Malfoy, but let me explain it to you. It's just that people might be wondering whether or not the legendary rivalry between Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter has finally come to an end and changed into something equalling …how shall I put it … _friendship_?'

Draco felt something jab at the corners of his mind. It was a petty and very clumsy attempt of the Death Eater to read his mind and Draco dodged it without any effort_.  
'Oh please!'_ he sneered mentally. _'I've been taught Occlumency by the Greatest of all and you imbecile are trying to get into my head? How cute!'_

'Friendship?' Draco smirked. 'Surely you don't take Harry Potter's petty attempts of provocation seriously? Although I must say they're rather amusing, I give him that.'

'Amusing, isn't it just?' Crabbe answered pleasantly. 'I'm sure that's exactly what the Dark Lord would say, too, if I told him that the son and godson of his two favorite and most trusted Death Eaters was a friend to the boy who lived, don't you think? I say, imagine the possibilities that could come with such a connection!'

Draco suppressed the urge to vomit on the man's feet with great difficulty.

'I'm beginning to see where you're coming from,' he said lightly. 'Rest assured I very much regret that I'm unable to provide the Dark Lord with this kind of entertainment or the opportunity to hand over Potter on a silver plate. And now if you'll kindly excuse me, I still owe my mother a dance.'

He made to turn around, when Crabbe's hand shot out and fastened around Draco's throat.

'I'll be watching you,' he hissed quietly through clenched teeth. 'You and that little cockroach!'

A second later he let go of Draco again and flashed him a wide, fake smile. 'Enjoy the party, young Malfoy!'

Tipping his hat, the Death Eater turned around and left down the hall.

Draco closed his eyes in an attempt to force his heartbeat back to a normal rate. When he opened them again, he found himself face to face with Lucius.

'Father!' Draco said, instantly flooded with the relief of seeing his dad.

Lucius looked at him closely. At last he spoke.

'I take it you understand my point of view now.'

With that he went to follow Mr. Crabbe and left Draco unconsciously rubbing the Death Eater's fingerprints off his throat …

* * *

Severus, who had watched the events on the first floor gallery from the middle of the ballroom, felt himself swelling with pride. Draco had handled himself more than well! None of his other students could ever have dealt with a Death Eater with as much dignity, poise, cleverness and confidence as his godson had just now, that much was certain. 

While he was still looking up at his godson with a mixture of worried pride, the room around Severus suddenly seemed to shift.

'A vision,' was the last thing the teacher thought before his reality morphed into a window of things yet to come …

_The grounds of Snape Manor. A dark and starless night. A pyre was blazing in the middle of the small graveyard. Albus Dumbledore stood in front of it, looking into the fire with eyes that were void of all happiness as they watched the dead body, clad all in white, that was burning in the flames. _

_Suddenly someone screamed in pure agony. 'NOOOOOOOO!'_

_With mounting terror Severus recognized the screaming voice as that of his beloved godson. A second later Draco came running into view. He seemed beside himself with pain, crying and screaming in agony, tearing at his hair and pointing his wand at the Headmaster, dropping it again, pointing it, dropping, pointing …_

'_WHYYYY?' he wailed, pacing back in forth in front of the Headmaster like a wounded animal. 'How could you do this? How could you? OH GOD WHY?' _

'_Because he's dead,' Albus said desperately, his voice full of pain. 'It was time!'_

'_NOOOOOO!' Draco screamed. 'THIS WAS NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS! YOU HAD NO RIGHT! HE WAS GOING TO COME BACK! BUT NOW YOU KILLED HIM! NOW YOU KILLED THEM BOTH!'_

'_No, Draco, he was already dead. I only gave him peace.'_

'_HOW DARE YOU?' Draco roared. 'YOU HAD NO RIGHT TO DO THIS! HE ONLY NEEDED TIME! THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! THIS NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF YOU AND TREWLANEY HADN'T GIVEN MY GODFATHER THAT BULLSHIT PROPHECY! THIS NEVER WOULD HAVE HAPPENED IF SEVERUS HADN'T TRUSTED YOU!' _

'_Draco, you're confused. You don't know what-'_

_Dumbledore was interrupted by a long screeching wail that made Severus's hair stand up._

_Narcissa came running towards the pyre. She dropped to her knees and began tearing on her long blond hair. 'MY SON!' she shrieked. 'MY SON! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY SON? HARRRYYYYYYYYYYYY!'_

_It was only then that Severus realized that the body burning inside the flames belonged to his soulmate. _

_For a long, horrific moment Severus feared he would lose his mind as the terror engulfed him, swallowing him whole …_

'Professor Snape? Are you okay?'

The graveyard faded and the horrifying sight of his burning mate's face was replaced by the worried face of his student Pansy Parkinson.

'Is everything alright?' she asked timidly. 'You look dreadful, sir. Can I get you a glass of water?'

Severus shook his head numbly. 'Thank you, Miss Parkinson, I'm fine. I think I just need some fresh air.'

With that he sped past the many party guests, threw open the front doors, raced downstairs and into the garden, where he threw up all over Narcissa's treasured rosebush …

* * *

'Crabbe?' 

The other Death Eater stopped in his tracks at the sound Lucius's voice and whirled around.

'Ah, Lucius!' he smiled, but the guilt was only too apparent in his small, watery eyes. 'What a magnificent party! You and your wife really outdid yourself this time.'

Lucius looked at him coldly. Soon the other man squirmed underneath the blonde man's glare and looked to his feet embarrassedly.

'If I ever see you laying a hand on my son again,' Lucius said softly. 'I will kill you so quickly you'll never know which curse hit you, do you understand?'

Crabbe opened his mouth to speak, when a voice behind Lucius hissed:

'And if I ever see you so much as _looking_ at my son again, rest assured that the repercussions will not be as painless as this one …'

Narcissa Malfoy stepped up next to her husband. Her blue eyes were blazing as she raised her wand and pointed it directly at Crabbe's heart.

'CRUCIO!'

**_To be continued_**


	16. Masquerade

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter is not my own. Sadly.  
This chapter contains original dialogue taken from chapter 10 of "OOTP".

**Author's Note:**  
Ahem ... I should warn you, this one's a bit fluffy.

* * *

Chapter 16  
**"Masquerade"**

Severus looked warily at the old furniture that was hidden in the farthest corner of the cluttered attic. The cupboard had not been opened for four years; it had not been looked at for four years.

The cupboard had not been _thought of_ for four years.

Four years ago, right on the day, Severus had locked it shut, vowing what was hidden inside would never have to see the light of day; convinced it would never be of any significance in his life. After all, he had given a promise and so what was inside this cupboard would never come to pass.

But … the promise was broken now.

Severus closed his eyes briefly, collecting his strength, before he turned the rusty old key around. The doors creaked as he opened them slowly, dreading what lay behind.

The five shelves inside the cupboard were empty except for the one in the middle. There, a shallow stone basin, carved with ancient elfish runes, stood glowing ominously in the dark. The source of light came from the bright silvery substance inside the basin.

A Pensieve.

Ever so carefully, Severus took the Pensieve in both of his hands and lifted it from the shelf. He turned around, placed it on a dusty, discarded desk behind him and sat down in front of it. For minutes all he did was stare into the whitish substance, neither liquid nor gas, that was swirling inside the basin. Although Severus knew that the Pensieve contained one of his own memories, he remembered only vaguely what he had so desperately wanted to forget four years ago.

But he knew it was something important. Something bad. A memory that he needed back now.

A memory about Harry.

When he felt he just couldn't put it off any longer, Severus leaned forward and plunged his face into the Pensieve …

* * *

When Hermione woke up early Sunday morning, it was still dark outside and the house was silent. On every other day she would have just turned around, closed her eyes again and fallen back asleep. Today she knew it wouldn't work. Excitement was bubbling inside of her, making it impossible to lie still and waste her time with something as _uneventful_ as sleep.  
And so Hermione swung her feet out of bed, slipped into her shoes and into her dressing gown and – suppressing the urge to shake Ginny awake and hysterically scream 'WE'RE GOING BACK TO HOGWARTS TODAY!' – tiptoed outside. She snuck down the hallway until she reached the room with the moldy cupboard in it. 

Hermione Granger was on a mission …

When she opened the door, however, she saw that someone had already beaten her to it. Sirius's box was standing in the middle of the room; its contents were scattered all over the floor and Harry was sitting in the midst of everything. Hermione smiled.

'Good morning!' she whispered, softly closing the door behind her.

Harry looked up. 'Oh, hey!' he greeted, looking slightly embarrassed. 'You're up early.'

'As are you,' Hermione replied, sitting down next to him, careful not to squash anything. 'What're you doing?'

Harry's ears started glowing. 'Erm …,' he said.

'Something tells me you're doing the same thing I came here for,' Hermione said casually. 'Found any good pictures yet?'

Harry's eyes grew large. Hermione grinned back sheepishly and they started laughing.

'Well, then something tells _me_ you were going to look for something like _this_ …,' said Harry, fishing something from the breast pocket of his pajamas. 'I was going to surprise you with it, but …'

He handed Hermione a photograph.

* * *

_For a moment all Harry could do was look on as Hermione resolved into tears right in front of him. He had only seen her cry once before and that was after Draco had first called her a mudblood._

_What did you do to stop a girl from crying?_

_Harry patted his friend on the back somewhat clumsily. 'Hermione, what's wrong?'_

_'He's your soulmate, isn't he?' Hermione sobbed miserably. 'Oh, I knew it!'_

_It took Harry a moment to comprehend …_

_'Draco?' he yelped. 'You think Draco is my soulmate? Hell no, Hermione! No way!'_

_He couldn't help himself, he started laughing. Hermione looked up at him with puffy eyes._

_'He's not?' she sniffed before wiping her face with the sleeve of her shirt._

_'Nooo! Don't get me wrong, I like Draco. A lot, actually! But not like THAT! He's a friend! Like Ron. Okay, not like Ron … but you know what I mean. He's definitely not my soulmate! I mean … EWWWW!'_

_Harry shuddered comically._

_Hermione laughed through her tears. 'But it would all make sense,' she sniffled. 'Sirius said your soulmate hates you and back then, you and Draco really did hate each other, right? And now that you've turned fifteen, you suddenly get along really well.'_

_Harry swallowed. Hermione had brought up a subject that he had, up until now, more or less successfully repressed. He had to take a few long breaths in order to will the invisible claw ('You're better off without him, Harry! He hates you and wants nothing to do with you!'), that seemed to slowly squash his insides, away._

_'Draco is not the only one that hates me,' he reminded Hermione quietly. 'Or hated me. Either way, he's not my soulmate, I know that much. Besides, I'm sure that Draco is not even, you know …' He squirmed embarrassedly. '…interested in guys.'_

_'He's not?' Hermione asked, sounding rather hopeful._

_Harry screwed up his face. 'What's it to you anyway? You don't have a crush on me or something, do you?' he asked suspiciously._

_Now it was Hermione who laughed._

_'No, Harry, I don't have a crush on you or something,' she said dryly. 'Sorry!'_

_'Oh. Okay,' said Harry, looking visibly relieved. Then, after a few moments' silence:_

_'Alright, wait a minute! Do you …? You have a crush on Malfoy?'_

_Hermione sighed shakily._

_'That took you a while, didn't it?'_

* * *

'Draco's mum must've sent this for Sirius's mom to keep, I think.' Harry said.

Hermione looked at the picture.

'OH MY GOD!' she squealed, as quietly as she could. 'THAT IS JUST THE CUTEST … OH GOSH, HARRY, LOOK AT THAT!'

Harry rolled his eyes in a way that was clearly supposed to say 'Hermione, you're such a _girl_!' and grinned amusedly. 'I thought you might like it!' he said rather smugly.

He leaned over and together they looked at the moving photograph in Hermione's hands.

A young Narcissa Malfoy was sitting in a beautiful garden underneath a pretty sunshade. She was laughing and talking to someone behind the camera. A tiny boy – not much older than three – was gamboling around her. It was without a doubt a very young and very playful Draco Malfoy. He pranced, hopped and skipped boisterously between his mother and the photographer, bending, squirming, pulling funny faces; clearly trying to be the center of attention.

'Awww, he's just the cutest thing!' Hermione cooed.

'A show-off, that's what he is,' Harry grinned. 'Even as a baby!'

Hermione ignored him, looking at the photo lovingly. 'Oh Harry, thank you! You think I can keep this?'

'I'm pretty sure Sirius doesn't need it,' Harry said musingly. 'But I can ask Kreacher if you like …'

He started to get up, but Hermione quickly pulled him back down. 'Oh stop it!' she giggled. 'I'm going to keep it, alright.'

'You do that,' Harry smiled.

'Have you found a good picture of Professor Snape, then?' Hermione wanted to know.

'Onlyhisyearbookpicture,' Harry mumbled embarrassedly and so quickly Hermione almost didn't understand him. He pulled out a small paper cutting and showed it to Hermione. 'And I cut out the one of him and _William Copley _(His mouth twisted as though he had just swallowed something very bitter) at the prom, too. I don't reckon Sirius will mind, do you?' he asked cynically.

Hermione shook her head with a small smile. She looked at the picture of a young, stern looking Severus Snape, not much older than they were now, that Harry was holding in his hand and nodded her approval. 'You know …,' she said musingly. 'He's rather handsome once you manage to overlook the fact that he looks absolutely terrifying.'  
She nudged him good-naturedly, in the same way Draco always did when he wanted to make sure that Harry knew he was joking.

'He does, doesn't he?' Harry said fondly. Then he looked at her and snickered.

'Geez, Hermione, we're such _teenagers_!'

* * *

The other teenagers at number twelve, Grimmauld Place were causing quite a commotion later that morning. 

Fred and George had bewitched their trunks so that they were flying their way downstairs, knocking over people and porcelain vases left and right, which, of course, caused Mrs. Weasley to scold the twins from the top of her lungs; Ginny was frantically racing up and down the stairs, searching for one lost, highly important item that just couldn't be left behind, after the next; and Ron was yelling for someone to help him close his trunk shut. On top that, the portrait of Sirius's mother was screeching obscenities at all the _'FILTHY HALF-BREEDS!'_ around her.

Only Hermione and Harry were already eating their breakfast in the kitchen; their trunks packed and ready in the hall. Occasionally they shared a conspiratorial grin, seemingly oblivious to the ruckus around them.

Both of them had dressed with particular care today. Harry had asked Professor Lupin to magic his torn jeans and sneakers whole again and then Tonks had bewitched his secondhand, XXL-outfit, so that his black jeans and emerald sweater now fit him perfectly, looking almost as good as new. After that Tonks had helped Hermione to get her bushy mane under control and even tried to talk Harry into a few metallic blue highlights, claiming they would look _so stylish_ in his raven-black hair, but when Harry had fiercely refused, she settled for turning Hermione's meek, grey jacket into a flashy red instead.

Now, Hermione was glowing with happiness. She was a Fifth Year now, she felt pretty, they'd on their way back to school any minute now (always a plus in Hermione's book) _and_ she would finally see Draco again. Draco Malfoy, who was now a good friend of _her_ best friend and would, thus, surely soon realize that there was absolutely nothing wrong with being a "mudblood" or having a one for a … _friend_.  
Either way, it felt absolutely magical – no pun intended - to finally be able to confide in someone about her feelings for the blonde Slytherin. The fact that Harry was in on her secret now, made her feelings for Draco seem all the more real suddenly.

For Harry the return to Hogwarts was always a very special day he looked forward to, but today he was looking forward to going back to school even more. His fifth year at Hogwarts would be completely different, completely … _better_.

This year he would start all over!

Draco would not be his arch-enemy anymore; they'd be friends! They would practice Quiddich together, hang out at Hogsmeade and do whatever he usually did with Ron and Hermione after lessons. And then his friends would understand why he liked Draco so much suddenly.  
Also, from now on, Harry would always show good manners and be polite and rational. He'd act like a real grown-up and not always rush head-on into the nearest trouble anymore. In short, he would show Severus that he was mature and responsible.  
He would not waste his time worrying about his soulmate anymore either (if his mate didn't want to be with him, they weren't soulmates to begin with, it was as easy as that! _Period!_), but concentrate on his lessons instead.  
Yes, he would start paying attention in Potions this year! He'd prove to Professor Snape that he was quite capable of brewing a potion correctly if he wanted to. And then Severus would see that he was not the dimwitted Gryffindor who couldn't get anything right and would stop breathing down his neck …

'_Okay, let me rephrase that,'_ Harry thought, grinning to himself. _'There's absolutely nothing wrong with Severus Snape breathing down my neck.'_

Flushing a darker shade of red, Harry snorted into his porridge.

_Honestly, Potter! Get a grip!_

The door opened and Sirius came rushing inside, his face screwed up against the screeching wails of 'MY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD! A TRAITOR!'.  
He closed the door behind him quickly and collapsed on a chair opposite of Harry and Hermione.

'One of these days I'm just going to burn her face off the effin' portrait!' he grumbled, wiping his own face tiredly.

'Wow, you're all ready and eager to go, aren't you?' he asked then, with a look at Harry's and Hermione's polished appearance and their beaming, content faces. 'Not that I blame you,' he added quickly, before any of them could answer. 'I couldn't wait to get away from this place either!'

A wave of sympathy washed over Harry. He'd go berserk, too, if he was all grown up but had to return and live to number four, Privet Drive. Even so, he wasn't too happy when Sirius's suggested: 'What do you say I escort you to King's Cross Station as Snuffles?'

Harry and Hermione exchanged a worried glance.

'That'd be nice,' Harry said hesitantly. 'But don't you think that's too dangerous? People might recognize you!'

Sirius heaved a sigh. 'You're less than your father than I thought,' he said sadly. 'He would've thought it-'

'YES!' Harry interrupted him aggressively. 'I'm not my father! Imagine that, Sirius! For starters, I'm gay. You know, _gay_ … as in … _queer!_' he added with mocking outrage.

Sirius gulped. 'Harry, about that …'

'Not quite the godson you were hoping for, am I?' Harry snapped.

_So much for being rational and mature._

Sirius suddenly looked very angry. He hit the table with the palm of his right hand. Hermione flinched.

'THAT'S NOT FAIR!' Sirius yelled. 'I LOVE YOU LIKE MY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD, HARRY JAMES POTTER! SO STOP SULKING! I DO NOT HAVE A PROBLEM WITH YOU BEING GAY!'

'You don't?' Harry asked quietly, deeply touched by his godfather's words.

'No, Harry, I don't!' Sirius said urgently. 'The only problem I have is that I speak too much without turning my brain on first.'

He grinned at Harry tentatively.

Harry's face slowly lit up into a smile. 'Well,' he shrugged. 'That makes two of us, then, doesn't it?'

* * *

'… I'm telling you, Draco, the old muggle didn't know what hit him. It was _so_ funny!' Vincent Crabbe finally ended his rant about how he and Goyle had plagued unsuspecting muggles during the summer holidays (this one with a Stunning hex out of his father's unregistered wand). Goyle snickered in agreement. 

'Hhmm,' was Draco's only contribution to the conversation as he looked down the platform towards the wrought-iron arch through which new arrivals appeared every few seconds. It was almost 11 and the red Hogwarts Express behind them was already impatiently belching sooty steam, eager to depart.

'Malfoy, are you okay?' Theodore Nott asked now. 'You look a bit … ill.'

Draco gave his fellow Slytherin a lopsided grin. 'I'm fine.'

_I'm _this_ close to puking all over my shoes because I bloody hate myself, but other than that I'm fine._

'I think I still have a hangover from yesterday, I guess,' he lied quickly to explain his even paler than usual appearance and Zabini clapped him on the shoulder. 'You Malfoys really know how to throw a party, mate!'

Draco grinned back before his eyes traveled towards the arch again.

_Potter is late. He's always late._

'Are you looking for someone?' Goyle grunted.

'Checking out the ladies,' Draco replied lazily, causing Goyle to chuckle stupidly.

_'GET A GRIP, MALFOY!'_ Draco mentally scolded himself. _'Or you might as well hang a sign around your neck saying '_Looking for Harry Potter!'_' _

Realizing this probably wasn't the smartest idea, Draco forced his gaze off the arch at the end of the platform and turned around to Vincent. 'The Stunning hex was a good one, by the way!' he complimented, repulsed. 'Wish I could've seen that!'

Crabbe grinned proudly.

Suddenly there was a commotion behind them and the small group of Slytherins turned around.

_So he made it._

A plump woman with red hair that Draco recognized as the Weasleys' mother, Harry and a large, black dog had just arrived on the platform 9 ¾. The dog was barking loudly and jumped around excitedly. A few second later Professor Lupin and the Weasley twins appeared, quickly stepping aside to make room for the following arrivers.

_Ah, look! And there's the imbecile and Gra- … WOW!_

Draco had to quickly compose himself to make sure he wasn't gawking all too obviously. What happened to Granger's hair?

_Nice jacket!_

Not only did the bookworm seem to have developed some sense of style over the holidays, Harry looked different as well. His clothes were … whole for a change. And they fit!

_What's the world coming to?_

Mrs Weasley started saying her goodbyes, randomly hugging the kids in front of her. The dog barked again and suddenly it reared on to its hind legs, placing its front paws on Harry's shoulders.

Draco gulped. Harry swayed slightly underneath the weight and for a moment Draco feared the small Gryffindor would lose his balance, but Harry only laughed, screwing up his face as the dog lapped across his cheek with its pink tongue once, before jumping down on all fours again.

'Gross,' muttered somebody next to Draco.

'Nice dog, Harry!' someone else yelled.

'Thanks, Lee,' Harry grinned at a fellow Gryffindor, patting the dog on the head proudly. Then he looked around searchingly until his gaze fell upon Draco standing among the other Slytherins. He smiled broadly and gave a small wave.

Draco looked away quickly. 'Zabini, did you check out the spell book I told you about?'

Crabbe looked at him.

'Yeah, I did,' Blaise nodded enthusiastically. 'Good one, Malfoy! Some of the spells were really difficult, though, weren't they?'

Draco nodded his agreement. And as the doors of the Hogwarts Express, he made sure to get on the train deeply immersed in a conversation about books and spells, to avoid having to look at a certain Gryffindor …

He was just about to follow Zabini, Nott, Crabbe and Goyle into one of the empty compartments, when Pansy grabbed a hold of him.

'This way,' she laughed, pointing down the corridor towards the engine end of the train. 'We're prefects now, remember?'

'Oh … right,' Draco said distractedly and followed her, pulling his trunk along behind him.

The prefect carriage was still empty.

'Shall we change into our robes already?' Pansy asked, pulling the glass-paneled door shut behind her.

'Yeah, okay,' Draco shrugged. He opened his neatly packed trunk, took out his black and green school robes and pulled them over his head. He looked down on himself musingly for a few seconds before shaking his head.

'Too bloody warm!' he mumbled, taking the heavy robes off again. Then he pulled off his sweater and, on second thought, his t-shirt too.

Pansy whistled appreciatively at the bare-chested Slytherin, but Draco merely rolled his eyes.

Pansy frowned. 'You _sure_ you're okay?' she asked skeptically. 'No trademark Draco Malfoy quip about what a stud he is?'

'I'm sexy, what can I do?' Draco said obediently.

Pansy's frown deepened.

'I told you I still have a hangover!' Draco snapped, untangling his robes busily.

'Right …' Pansy muttered, pulling out the Hogwarts uniform from her own trunk.

The door behind them slid open and the two Slytherins turned around to find Hermione and Ron stepping inside.

Hermione looked at Draco briefly before averting her eyes and blushing furiously.

Draco quickly dived into his robes, hiding his own flushing face for as long as possible before pulling the robes fully over his head. He straightened them carefully. Then he looked at the Gryffindors.

'Prefect, huh?' he said, looking Ron up and down contemptuously. 'Now the old man has lost even the last of his marbles.'

Ron's face turned pink.

'What happened to Saint Potter?' Draco asked Hermione conversationally. The girl flinched slightly, her brows furrowing.

'Or do the holy Gryffindors get to have _three_ prefects this year?'

'No,' replied Hermione quietly. 'Harry's not a prefect.'

_Figures! The pipsqueak's a trouble-magnet after all._

Draco sneered, but said nothing as he crouched in front of his trunk to retrieve his prefect's badge.

'He says hi, by the way,' Hermione said very softly.

Draco's head snapped up.

'Oh yeah?' he snorted. He pinned the badge to his chest. 'Well, if he expects me to play babysitter again, tell him to think again.'

Hermione stared down at him, an odd expression on face.

_Is she going to cry? Oh no, Granger, don't you dare! _

'SEE?' Ron barked at Hermione. 'I told you Malfoy and Snape are stupid gits! But no, Harry just wouldn't listen!'

Before any of the two Gryffindors could react, Draco jumped up and drew his wand, jabbing it at Ron's throat dangerously now.

'Fifty points from Gryffindor for insulting a teacher, Weasebee!' he snarled.'And another ten for insulting me.'

He pocketed his wand again and, taking Pansy by the hand, he strode past Ron towards the exit; banging the door shut behind him very loudly as they left.

* * *

Pansy didn't say anything as they walked down the corridor and for that, Draco was extremely grateful. 

'I'll start patrolling from the middle, then,' he grunted as Pansy began to reprimand two tiny First Years that were jumping on the seats in of the next compartments, and fled. As he walked down the corridor a few carriages further down, he suddenly heard loud laughter at the end of the wagon. Draco came to a halt in front of the noisy compartment and looked inside.

One of the Weasley twins stood with his back to the door, his fists raised. Harry stood before him in the same position, bouncing on his feet like one of those muggle boxers Draco sometimes watched on television. Whatever threatening effect Harry was hoping to accomplish was ruined, however, by the height difference between him and his older, snickering opponent.

Draco smiled.

Ginny, Neville, the other twin and Loony Lovegood were sitting on either side of the two fighters, cheering them on enthusiastically.

Harry lashed out now, managing to hit the twin's right elbow playfully.

The others applauded loudly. Harry raised his arms over his head triumphantly and then brought them back down and moved his hands in a soothing motion, looking very smug as he pretended to calm the raving masses of fans.

Draco's throat tightened.

'HE HIT ME!' Harry's opponent yelled now, sounding absolutely scandalized. 'Did you see that, Fred?' The twin adopted a very girlish voice as he squealed: 'He's hitting on me! PROFESSOR MACGONAGALL, HELP! HARRY POTTER IS HITTING ON ME!'

Harry's face flushed bright red, but he grinned. And, suddenly, the younger Gryffindor ducked and raced towards the other boy like a minuscule bull aiming for the red flag. He ran straight into George Weasley, who laughed loudly, and began to wrestle with him.

Draco chuckled lightly. But when he became aware that his laughter sounded more like a dry sob than anything else, he quickly composed himself. He could not have chosen a better moment, because just then Crabbe and Goyle entered the carriage and came waltzing down the corridor towards him. Feeling trapped, Draco did the only thing he could think of. He opened the door of the compartment in front of him.

Luna Lovegood looked up and eyed the Slytherin with interest. The youngest Weasley had the same curious look on her. Fred smiled at him. Only Neville Longbottom looked terrified, of course.

'DRACO!' Harry beamed up at him from against George's waist, struggling to pull himself out of the twin's headlock.

At that George turned around. 'Malfoy!' he greeted friendly, releasing Harry and sitting down next to his twin brother. Harry straightened up, glared at George in a completely unthreatening way and then drove a hand through his messy hair, laughing at Draco.

And Draco Malfoy couldn't think of a thing to say.

'How are you?' asked Harry kindly. But suddenly his demeanor changed and he snapped: 'WHAT?'

Crabbe and Goyle had appeared next to Draco, framing him, and sneered into the compartment contemptuously now.

'Manners, Potter, or I'll have to give you detention,' Draco drawled.

Harry looked back at him and began to smile again. 'Is that so?' he asked. His emerald eyes twinkled. 'And why would you do that, Malfoy?'

Draco swallowed.

_This is not going well. Stop being so fucking nice, Potter!_

'You see, I, unlike you, have been made a prefect, which means that I, unlike you, have the power to hand out punishments,' Draco smirked.

'Oh yeah,' Harry said sweetly while looking very amused. 'But you, unlike me, are a git, so either you get out and leave us alone or you come in and shut up. Imbecile!'

He winked at the Slytherin, when suddenly Goyle, with a speed Draco would have never expected of him, lunged forward and hit Harry square on the jaw with a right hook, roaring: 'DON'T YOU SPEAK TO HIM LIKE THAT, POTTER!'

Harry stumbled backwards and fell to the ground with a look of utmost surprise on his face. Everyone else seemed too stunned to move. Harry slowly brought a hand up to his aching jaw. He looked up at Draco without saying a word.

Draco knew what the Gryffindor expected of him now.

_I'm sorry, Potter._

'Why, I'd say you asked for it, Potty!' Draco shrugged, grinning maliciously.

Hurt flickered across Harry's face as though Draco had just hit him a second time.

'Let's go!' Draco said to Crabbe and Goyle and the Slytherins left.

**_To be continued_**


	17. Crucio

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.  
The Sorting Hat's Song is taken directly from "Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix".

* * *

Chapter 17  
**"Crucio"**

'Hermione, it's enough!'

Harry swatted his friend's wand out of his face for what must've been the umpteenth time as they sat down at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall. 'It's not _broken_! I'm _fine_!'

Hermione pursed her lips. 'I still think you should go and see Madame Pomfrey with that.'

'Yeah, and give the Slytherins a great, big laugh because the first thing Potty does back at Hogwarts is run up to the hospital wing. I think I'll pass, thank you.'

Harry poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice, took a great gulp and then pressed the cold glass against his pounding jaw, trying not to wince as he did so, before looking over to the staff table at the end of the Hall. There was Professor Dumbledore sitting in the middle of the long table and talking to a new teacher next to him that looked oddly familiar to Harry, although he couldn't think where he could have ever seen her before. To their left sat the tiny Professor Flitwick talking animatedly to Professor Trewlaney, the Divination teacher; to Dumbledore's right sat Hagrid beside Madame Pomfrey, who was discreetly trying to swish her wand in front of his face while Hagrid was discreetly trying to slap her hand away without sending her flying across the room.

The odd couple reminded Harry very much of Hermione and himself. Only, he thought with astonishment, in contrast to him Hagrid's face could _really_ do with some patching up. The half-giant's nose was swollen and both of his eyes blackened. But for some reason Hagrid didn't look too miserable about the state he was in. In fact, he was smiling broadly for some reason, snickering to himself occasionally. Harry didn't have time to ponder over this, however.

'Where is Professor Snape?' he asked, staring at the one empty chair at the right end of the long staff table.

'I'm sure he'll be here in a minute,' Hermione whispered back.

Harry nodded.

A second later he shook his head. 'No. He's not here!'

Hermione raised her eyebrows. 'Duly noted, Harry,' she smiled.

'He isn't here _at all_, I mean.'

'Not here at Hogwarts?' Hermione asked skeptically. 'But how … how do you know?'

To that Harry had no answer. He shrugged and looked over at Ron who was talking to Dean and Seamus in a heated whisper that was loud enough for the entire table to hear.

'And then he deducted sixty house points from us! Can you believe it? How Dumbledore could've made that bully Malfoy a _prefect_, I have no idea!'

Many Gryffindors nodded in agreement.

'And what did _you_ do?' Harry asked loudly.

Ron stared back at him. 'What do you mean?' he asked quietly.

'I mean, what did you do that he deducted sixty points?' Harry repeated calmly.

'I mentioned to Hermione about what utterly stupid gits Malfoy and Snape are!' Ron replied defiantly, looking around the table as though he was waiting for approval.

'Well,' Harry said lightly, taking another sip from his pumpkin juice. 'Sixty's not too bad then, is it?'

Ignoring the disbelieving looks from all around him, he turned back around to look at the staff table once more.

_Where the hell is he?_

'Don't mind Harry,' he heard Ron say to the others. 'You have to know that he and Malfoy have sud-'

'Hey Weaselbee!' interrupted a familiar drawl from the table behind Harry. 'Be quiet at last or I'll have to make you do lines. You know, _'I shall not speak without permission'_ or _'I apologize for being such a waste of air space'_ or something like that?'

The other Slytherins around Draco snickered.

Hermione turned around and glared at the Blonde. 'Why don't YOU shut up, Malfoy?' she asked scathingly, her voice shaking ever so slightly. 'Before somebody will make _you_ do some lines.'

She turned back around very quickly and stared unblinkingly on the empty plate in front of her. Before Draco could retort, the large doors at the end of the Hall opened (Harry whipped around at the sound) and Professor McGonagall came inside, carrying the Sorting Hat and a small stool. She was followed by a long line of very timid looking First Years. The Head of Gryffindor house led the First Years in front of the staff table, where she put down the stool and placed the Sorting Hat on it before pulling out a long parchment and looking over the small children in front of her. Harry turned in his chair and watched the proceedings with half a smile, remembering very clearly how terrified he had been that first night at Hogwarts, waiting to be sorted into one of the four houses.

_It was going to place me in Slytherin._

Before he could help himself, Harry glanced over at the Slytherin table. There, all heads were turned to look at the Sorting Hat. Only Draco was looking right back at Harry, his face inexpressive, when suddenly the old wizard's hat began to sing …

_In times of old when I was new  
And Hogwarts barely started  
The founders of the noble school  
Thought never to be parted:  
United by a common goal,  
They had the selfsame yearning,  
To make the world's best magic school  
And pass along their learning_

Suddenly a searing pain drove through Harry's scar and into his head; so intense he clasped his forehead with one hand, his eyes screwed shut. But as quickly as it had come, the pain disappeared and Harry was able to breathe again freely. Moments like this had become rather frequent ever since Voldemort's return that night at the end of Harry's fourth year and as usual Harry didn't pay much attention. After all he _still_ had more important things to ponder over at the moment.

Just where on earth was Snape?

'_Together we will build and teach!'  
The four good friends decided  
And never did they dream that they  
Might some day be divided  
For were there such friends anywhere  
As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

'Ah-ha-ha-ha!' said Ron mockingly.

_Unless it was the second pair  
Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?  
So how could it have gone so wrong?  
How could such friendships fail?  
Why, I was there and so can tell  
The whole sad, sorry tale._

'So can I,' Ron announced. 'Godric Gryffindor came to his senses and realized what a pillock Slytherin really was. Don't you think, Harry?'

* * *

Cold, long and slender fingers cupped his chin almost gently and Severus Snape suppressed a revolted shudder as he raised his head to look at the creature that stood in front of him. 

'I'm asking you again, Severus. You are absolutely sure that all those years under Dumbledore's roof did not soften you heart?'

Seconds later the Potions master felt the familiar nip and tug of the other Legilimens trying to enter his mind and gain access to his memories and emotions. He had long lost count of how many times his mind had been raped like this during the past few days. As he knelt in front of the Dark Lord, looking into those empty, scarlet eyes that pierced through his own in an attempt to penetrate the core of his soul, Severus couldn't help but wonder when Voldemort would finally grow tired of attacking his mind.

As soon as Harry had left Snape Manor, Severus had informed the Dark Lord of Harry Potter's stay at his house. As expected, he was immediately subjected to several "questionings" of his loyalty to the Dark Side. Over and over the Potions teacher was forced to confirm that _'Yes, my Lord, I am still a most loyal servant!' _and _'No, my Lord, I have never renounced the old ways!'_

Two days later Crabbe returned from the Ministry, where he and Lucius had done some "business" and told Voldemort of Harry Potter's rather uncharacteristic politeness towards the Death Eater and the testing of Severus's loyalty had become slightly more … _physical_.

But all in all Severus thought he was putting on a convincing enough show. Spinning tale after tale about how Albus Dumbledore became overly wary - yes, almost suspicious - of his Potions master after Potter's return back from the graveyard with the news about the Dark Lord's return, Severus lied about how Harry had been placed his care by the Order of the Phoenix in order to test his loyalty.

Severus had always known he'd have to tell the Dark Lord about those two weeks with Harry before Death Eaters like Crabbe could beat him to it. Something that was only too likely, given that Harry wore his heart on his sleeve. The Gryffindor probably couldn't hide his new friendly feelings towards Severus and Draco if he tried. And yet - refusing to yet again overshadow Harry's life by reminding him of the ever looming presence of the Dark Lord - Severus had been unwilling to explain to his student why it was so important to keep up the pretence of loathing both him and Draco. Now Severus regretted his decision deeply. His only hope was that his godson had done so by now … and that Harry didn't take the news too badly.

* * *

When the Gryffindors trudged down the stairs that lead to the dungeons to their first class of the new term the next morning, Harry found it hard to believe that less than twenty-four hours ago he had still been full of eager anticipation to finally return to Hogwarts. Now life at Hogwarts seemed to have lost most of its appeal. Draco was back to his old "Hogwarts-self"; a wound that Ron kept sprinkling salt on with much glee (both of which caused Hermione to be in a rather bad mood) and to top it all, their first lesson was Potions … only that their Potions master was still nowhere to be seen.

Snape's absence had been explained by Dumbledore last night with 'some personal matters Professor Snape needs to attend to'. The Headmaster had assured the students that their Potions teacher would be back shortly (a statement that only the Slytherins and Harry seemed to be pleased about) and in the meantime the 'dear Professor Umbridge' would be their substitute teacher.

Dolores Umbridge, the new teacher Harry had noticed at the staff table yesterday, was the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher or, as Hermione put it, a teacher 'sent from the Ministry to interfere at Hogwarts'. Harry tried to ignore the unease that Hermione's words were causing him, for he finally remembered where he had seen the woman before: She had been one of the jury members at his hearing a few days ago, voting in favor for Harry's conviction.

It spoke volumes for the first impression 'dear Professor Umbridge' had made last night, that Harry wasn't the only Gryffindor who considered the exchange of Severus Snape with Dolores Umbridge a foul trade. As they filed into their Potions Classroom together with the Slytherins, rebellious mumbles could be heard from all sides.

'The Sorting Hat would be proud!' said Harry loudly to Hermione as they walked towards a desk in the back of the classroom. 'Gryffindors and Slytherins united in their animosity towards the Potions substitute teacher. First step towards House Unity, don't you reckon?'

'Dream on, Potter!' sneered somebody from behind them. Draco Malfoy brushed past them, bumping his shoulder hard against Harry's as he did so.

Ignoring yet another one of Ron's muttered _'Didn't I say it?' _monologues, Hermione looked at Harry with unconcealed disbelief when he sat down on the chair next to her, a small, almost unnoticeable smile on his face.

'What are you looking so happy about?' she whispered irritably. 'I just don't understand why you let him get away with all this!'

Harry rubbed his shoulder absentmindedly. His smile broadened, but he didn't answer Hermione and instead gave a warning nod towards the door, through which Professor Umbridge had just entered the classroom.

Silence fell.

* * *

'You have not developed a soft spot for the students that are placed under your care in all those years you have not been under my supervision? Namely, for the one called _Harry Potter_?' 

Without much effort Severus managed to channel the revulsion he felt at the Dark Lord's touch and the sound of his mate's name coming from those thin, repulsive lips into mentally displaying appropriate disgust with _Harry_ for Voldemort, as he allowed the Dark Wizard to enter his mind once more. He made sure to look and sound convincingly contemptuous as he _again_ complained about how living under one roof with _'that filthy little bastard'_ had been living hell, when he wanted nothing more than to Apparate Potter right into the Dark Lord's hands.

He nimbly offered the same flood of images - some real, some staged - and emotions to the Dark Lord over and over again: Harry glaring at him with badly concealed dislike; utmost contempt at the mere thought of the Gryffindor; Harry ineptly ruining yet another one of his potions; Harry saying something very rude from across the dinner table; a feeling of cold glee as Harry lay in the middle of the lawn, hurt and crying, clutching Cedric's dead body; triumph at the news that the Dark Lord had returned at last.

All the while his true feelings were stored safely somewhere in the depths of Severus's mind.

Severus could tell that, although frighteningly powerful already, the Dark Lord was still far from being on top of his game, whereas many years of practice lay behind Severus. The Potions master dared to say he had by now become an Occlumens so skilful that no Legilimens, hopefully not even Voldemort, would ever be a match.

Plus, Severus had something worth fighting for. _Someone_.

While Harry Potter's protection had always been one of his top priorities, Severus now knew that he would gladly Avada Kedavra himself before he would ever hand the Dark Lord any "mental ammunition" about the bond he shared with James Potter's son. Now Harry's safety was more than a promise Severus had once given. Now it was all that would ever matter. But where love was the motor for Severus's actions, hate was the one thing that had always fueled Tom Riddle. He was undoubtedly persistent and he had one clear advantage over Severus.

The Cruciatus Curse.

* * *

Professor Umbridge's approach of teaching was very much to Neville's liking: No cauldrons, no ingredients, no prowling Snape … only a silent classroom and two dozen open textbooks. And although Harry did agree with the No Cauldrons policy ("No cauldrons No messing up a potion No angry Severus"), he would have given everything to have Professor Snape prowling the classroom and peering distastefully into Harry's boiling cauldron again. Where was he? 

_And more importantly, when will he be back?_

Professor Umbridge sat at her table seemingly marking papers (although Harry couldn't help but wonder what papers a teacher could possibly be marking during the very first lesson of a new school year), occasionally glancing up to make sure every student was still reading chapter one of their new potions book obediently. Wanting to live up to his new term's resolution of being attentive during Potions lessons, Harry managed to read exactly two paragraphs before his mind began to wander.

_What's so important that he's missing school?_

Harry's eyes flew aimlessly over one more paragraph before he decided that a Potions class without their Potions master present didn't count as such. He wasn't going to waste his time trying to impress a substitute teacher. Especially not a substitute teacher wanting to get him expelled.

_What if he's in trouble?_

Worry began to gnaw at Harry's insides. Did something happen back at Snape Manor? Was everybody okay? Was Priya ill maybe? She _did_ look kind of dreadful the day Harry left Snape Manor, now that he thought about it.

_Draco would know._

Harry looked over to where the blonde Slytherin was sitting. Draco was bent over his textbook attentively, his arms folded neatly in front of him. Harry stared at the other boy, willing him to look up, but Draco seemed deeply immersed in his reading. His eyes were moving steadily from left to right. Harry cleared his throat, but only Professor Umbridge looked up from her papers and Harry quickly looked back down on his book.

'_If something was wrong with Priya, Draco wouldn't be so calm now,'_ he reasoned. Draco loved Priya. If she wasn't alright, then Harry would surely be able to read it on Draco's face.

_Yeah, except that I wouldn't._

You did not just _read_ on Draco Malfoy's face, Harry knew. Unless those emotions included utmost contempt and could be expressed with a mocking sneer, that was. After all, judging by Draco's behavior one would never guess that only few days ago he and Harry had played Quidditch together. And in perfect harmony, too.

_Okay, so I'm exaggerating a little!_

Fact was that looking at Draco no one would ever guess that less than 48 hours ago he and Harry had still communicated on the …

Harry almost slapped his own forehead. The Tabulas Loquoram! He had been so busy wondering about Severus's whereabouts that he had forgotten all about it. This was it! He would simply use the Tabulas Loquoram to ask Draco about his godfather and … whether everything was alright.

'Hem, hem.'

Professor Umbridge's trademark little throat-clearing cough ripped Harry from his thoughts and he looked at the teachers' desk up front. The new teacher was looking back at him through prominent, pouchy eyes.

'Mister Potter, are we paying attention?' she simpered and Harry felt a powerful rush of dislike surge though him.

'Well,' he said trying to match the fakeness of her smile. 'I don't know about you, but _I_ certainly wasn't. Sorry.'

He looked back down on his book, when he heard Professor Umbridge getting up from her desk and walk towards him.

'Hem, hem.'

Harry refused to look back up even when Professor Umbridge came to a halt right in front of his table.

'_Hem, hem.'_

Slowly Harry raised his head to look at her. 'Yes, Professor?' he asked, feigning surprise.

'Maybe Professor Snape was a lax enough teacher to let you get away with your cheek, Mister Potter, but I will certainly not tolerate it.'

Harry's hands curled. 'Professor Snape is not the one who makes us _read_ all lesson!' he retorted.

All eyes were resting on Harry now, but he didn't notice. Unblinkingly he stared at Professor Umbridge whose own eyes narrowed dangerously. 'And just what are you trying to say, Mister Potter?' she asked sweetly.

Harry shrugged. 'Just trying to make a point. Only you were referring to him as lax and-'

'POTTER!' somebody hissed suddenly. All heads turned to look at Draco who was glaring at Harry with unconcealed dislike.

'Would you kindly shut that big mouth of yours so we can finish this chapter before the end of the class?' he asked sharply. 'Unlike you, some people here actually want to _learn_ something.'

Harry stared at him.

He opened his mouth, but closed it again without saying anything. Quietly the Gryffindor looked back down on his Potions book and didn't look up again until the school bell rang.

* * *

Harry hadn't looked at him all day ever since he had told him to shut up during this morning's Potions class, let alone spoken to him. As it was, "silent Harry" was a major improvement over "friendly Harry", Draco reckoned. 

_Only it isn't._

Draco looked over to the Gryffindor table, where Harry was busily staring into his pumpkin juice. The Slytherin sighed. A stubborn Harry he could deal with. Or an angry one. Even a sad one. But a brooding Harry Potter? Had he gone too far? Had he thrown the future off course? Would Harry still want to be his friend?

But why oh why couldn't Potter just keep his mouth shut? Had nobody warned him about Umbridge? Did he not have enough sense to not provoke a Ministry-sent teacher?

_He's a Gryffindor. Question answered._

Of course Draco regretted barking at Harry like that this morning, but could anyone blame him? As noble as it was of the Gryffindor to defend Severus's teachers' honor, he had better keep quiet about his new _… whatever it was …_ friendship to his Potions teacher.

Severus was still gone!

And it was all Harry's fault, really! Draco knew that Severus had to tell Voldemort about Harry's stay at Snape Manor. He also knew that Voldemort was not too amused about the missed opportunity to get his hands on Potter. And now Harry happily blurted out his newfound respect for Severus, when Severus was probably trying to convince the Dark Lord about not giving shit about the Gryffindor at this very moment. Why didn't Severus warn Harry to keep quiet about his stay at Snape Manor?

_Why didn't I warn him?_

The truth was that Draco had wanted to leave a message on the Tabulas Loquoram ever since his mother's party, but the encounter with Crabbe's father left him wary. What if Harry's half got into the wrong hands? Merlin knew whom Potter had already told about it. It was about time he spoke to Harry and fixed things.

A noise ripped Draco from his thoughts.

Looking up, he saw that Harry had got up from the dinner table. He was chalk white and held on to the table with both hands, staring blankly ahead of him.A look of pure panic started to spread on his face and his eyes flew towards the Slytherin table, searching for Draco. Draco frowned. But before he could do or say anything, Harry turned toward the staff table at the end of the Hall. His eyes fixed on Dumbledore and he opened his mouth to say something, but no sound came out.

Silence fell across the Great Hall as all heads turned towards Harry.

Harry wordlessly stepped over the bench behind him, leaning heavily on Hermione with one hand as he did so. Hermione looked terrified … but not half as much as Harry did. His other hand was pressed flat on his stomach and he cringed before he backed away from the table and began to slowly make his way towards the staff table. Albus Dumbledore got up from his chair.

Harry stopped. Again he winced as if he was having a seizure, all the while clutching his stomach.

'Professor!' he panted. 'They … he … need to …'

He continued to stumble forwards but suddenly, before anyone could react, he doubled over and fell to his knees, his face a mask of pain.

And then Harry began to scream.

**_To be continued_**


	18. Visitors

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

* * *

Chapter 18  
**"Visitors"**

Not a single sound echoed through the castle.

The staircase lay in darkness, except for the single white light that steadily danced upwards, so small it barely illuminated the steps underneath its holder. Careful not to make any noise and wake the inhabitants of the portraits that framed the stairway all around him, Draco Malfoy crept forward until he reached the top of the stairs.

'Nox,' he whispered and immediately the firefly light at the end of his wand went out.

For a moment Draco stood in complete darkness before his eyes adjusted to the sparse moonlight that shone through three ceiling-high windows to his left and fell upon the dark marble tiles of the hallway that stretched out in front of him. A large double door loomed at the long end of the hall. Stealthily Draco tiptoed past four smaller doors to his right until he stopped right in front of it. Tipping his head to the side, he listened for any noise coming from behind any of the closed doors. When he heard nothing, Draco slowly pushed open the double door and stepped into the infirmary.

As expected all beds that Draco passed were empty. It was only the first day after the summer holidays and no student had managed to accident their way into Madam Pomfrey's care as yet.

With the exception of one.

At the far end of the room a screen shielded a lone bed from Draco's view. He stopped right in front of it.

'Potter!' he hissed.

Nobody answered.

'Harry,' Draco repeated quietly. 'Are you awake?'

Again, no one answered him.

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Well, you better be dressed, Potter, because I want to talk to you,' he whispered and promptly started to pull the curtain aside. 'And I have no desire to see you na-'

He stared at the bed in front of him. Like all the others, it was empty.

* * *

'I'm back, I'm okay, go to bed.' 

Severus almost felt guilty when he closed the door behind him again. But thankfully, despite the briefness of this report (classily delivered with his head poked through a crack in the kitchen door), Priya knew better than to come after him. Whether truth or lie, she knew, these words would have to suffice as his report back from the Dark Lord for the time being. Albus Dumbledore, however, would not be satisfied with a report of such simplicity, and therefore Severus decided Hogwarts would have to wait, too. He wasn't ready to face the world just yet. Worried family members, hot showers, the Order of the Phoenix, concerned Headmasters, nutritious meals, new DADA teachers, distressed teenagers … even Harry … all had to wait. For right now, all Severus Snape wanted was his bed. Or better yet: his bed, a good night's sleep in it and a vial of pain relieving potion circulating in his blood stream. Or two.

Or three.

Not wanting to strain his burning eyes and pounding head any more than necessary, Severus didn't bother with turning on the light in his bedroom upstairs. Leaving a trail of discarded clothes on the moonlit floor, he aimed straight for the bar where he mixed a strong muscle relaxant into his Firewhisky. He gulped down the drink in one go before mixing himself another, which he considerately placed on his nightstand, right next to his wand.

Groaning, Severus sat down on his bed. For a while he merely sat there, in the dark, feeling the medicine flow through his body and letting his overwrought senses finally come to rest. Finally he pulled the damp socks from his feet, drowned the second drink and, now clad only in his boxers, climbed underneath the cool sheets. Heaving a heavy sigh, he leaned back and closed his eyes. Immediately sleep began to close in on him and drowsily Severus welcomed …

… the searching hand that wandered across his chest and over his face, cupping it gently. He didn't object to the warm breath ghosting over his right cheek or the velvety kiss that followed until somebody said:

'I love you like no other, Severus, but you _really_ need a shower.'

* * *

'Don't worry. I'm dressed,' a quiet voice suddenly spoke from behind him. 

Draco turned around. There, in the west window of the infirmary, sat Harry Potter. As promised he was wearing his pajamas. Hugging his drawn up knees while his bare feet were resting on the sill, he calmly looked at Draco, studying him attentively. Draco was thankful that it was the other boy who broke the silence first.

'Well, how can I help you, Mister Malfoy?'

Draco smiled, but it faded quickly when he saw that there was no humor in Harry's eyes.

'How are you, Potter? Is everything okay?' he asked, not meaning for his voice to sound as harsh as it did.

Again, Harry regarded him silently. A few seconds passed before he answered. 'That shouldn't be your concern.'

He jumped off the window sill and walked towards his bed, his feet patting softly on the cold stone floor.

'Just you let what should be my concern be my ... er ... concern!' Draco huffed indignantly.

At that Harry finally smiled. 'Eloquent!' he said, raising one eyebrow at Draco. He climbed onto his bed and slid his feet underneath the blanket before pulling it up to his chin. 'I'm fine, Draco. Thanks for asking,' he said curtly. 'You can go back to bed now. Good night. And goodbye.'

He lay down on his bed and turned his back to Draco, who stood in the dark, empty and quiet infirmary feeling rather stupid.

'You're being rude,' he stated at last.

A small snort came from the bed in front of him. 'Oh yeah?'

'Yes.'

'Well, I'm glad. Means I've got the act right, doesn't it?' Harry replied without turning his head. 'Now if you would be so kind, I'm tired.'

Draco was stunned. 'So you understand.' he said in wonder. 'You _do_ understand that this is an act.'

'Yes. Goodbye.' Harry interrupted him shortly.

'Merlin, Potter!' Draco murmured impatiently. 'Will you stop sulking already? I'm sorry for not being all matey with you before, but do you understand it or not? You and I have a reputation to uphold! I'm a Slytherin, you're a Gryffindor! I'm a Malfoy, you're a P-'

'Thank you, Captain Obvious!' Harry sat up. 'You failed to mention that you're the son of a Death Eater who, not too long ago, would have liked nothing better than to see me roasting on a gravestone in front of the Dark Lord. I told you I understand. Of course I do! Now go. LEAVE!'

'Why are you being like this?' Draco demanded quietly.

Harry's hands curled around the fabric of his blanket and he turned his head away from Draco. 'Because I can't do it, okay?' he whispered. 'I know I have to, but I can't. I don't know how!'

'How to _what_?'

'How to pretend that I hate someone when I don't!' Harry swallowed. 'How how to act like I'm still your enemy when I want to be your friend. How to pretend I still loathe your godfather when I …! I can't do it. And I don't want to!'

Harry inhaled sharply and Draco realized the Gryffindor was holding back his tears only with great difficulty.

_The brave Harry Potter._

Here sat the Boy Who Lived, the boy who had unblinkingly and repeatedly faced the Dark Lord, various lunatic teachers and magical creatures, his Muggle relatives and Merlin knew how many dangers Draco didn't even know of yet, and he was distressed because he …

_He wants to be my friend._

It startled Draco to no end.

'Then you're even more selfish than I thought, Potter,' he said coldly.

Harry's head whipped around and he looked at Draco in disbelief. His eyes were brimming with tears – a fact that Draco preferred to ignore. 'Selfish?' Harry asked. 'Me? _You_ were the one who … you practically _forced_ me into wanting to be friends with you! How's that selfish when_ I'm_ the one who's supposed to take it all back now?'

'You're only supposed to _pretend_ to take it all back.'

'No, I'm supposed to pretend these holidays never even happened!'

'Even better.'

Harry chortled bitterly. 'And yet I am the one being selfish here! You're absolutely right, Malfoy, I'm seeing it now. Oh, it was _very_ selfish of me to think that you were brave enough to …' His voice trailed off.

'What?' Draco demanded, angry. 'Brave enough to be Harry Potter's friend?'

'Yes!' Harry replied defiantly. A second later he crossed his arms in front of his chest for good measure. Against his will Draco smiled.

_You're such a child, Potter!_

'After all you were brave enough at Snape Manor. I mean, you gave me the Tabulas Loquoram!' Harry said. 'So forgive me for thinking it would be okay for us to be friends. _Real_ friends. But now you don't want your dad to find out after all, do you? Well, I'm not scared of your father, Malfoy! But if you are …' He shrugged meaningfully.

'Leave my father out of this, Potter!'

'Out of this? I thought this was all about him! Oh, and Voldemort of course. Because it's always about _him_, isn't it?' Harry looked down on his hands that were still curled tightly around the blanket. Draco agreed with the latter sentiment wholeheartedly but he refused to say it.

'Anyway, about the Tabulas Loquoram,' he said instead. 'I came to …'

Harry flinched.

Then, suddenly, he threw the covers aside and jumped out of bed. He lifted his pillow and Draco saw the Tabulas Loquoram lying in its place. Harry took it and marched around his bed to where Draco was standing on the other side. Roughly he shoved the small plate into the Slytherin's chest.

'Here you go! I don't want it anyway,' he said, his words betrayed by the trembling of his voice. 'And now leave me alone!'

* * *

His first impulse was to gasp in outrage, reach for his wand, conjure up some light and hex the intruder through the roof above. 

For some reason, though, Severus didn't.

And although it took his brain only two seconds to decide whether or not the body next to him was the result of another Legilimens's mind trick, his own body needed far less time to make a decision: Catching the cheeky index finger that was now happily poking the tip of his rather large nose with one hand, he pulled the person next to him into a tight embrace with the other.

'Time-traveling again, are we, Mister Potter?' he asked.

Promptly the lights went on. Severus blinked and so did the young man sitting next to him. Like Severus he wore nothing but a pair of dark boxers. His raven-black hair was tousled and his green eyes were gleaming in the light like two Emeralds. Around his neck he wore a small pendant. It was a silver triangle with a menacing little dragon writhing in front of it, its fangs bared.

'Oh,' the other man said, eying Severus. 'I did, didn't I? You _do_ look dreadful. My husband doesn't,' he observed conversationally, his green eyes twinkling.

Tearing his eyes off the pendant around Harry's neck, Severus sat up as well. 'Ever the charming Gryffindor,' he growled. His growl turned into a groan and he began rubbing an ache in his right shoulder.

'What's wrong with you?' Harry asked.

'I'm getting old,' Severus smirked through clenched teeth.

Harry clicked his tongue with what could have been impatience or amusement. 'What date is it then?' he wanted to know.

Severus began to roll his neck. '2nd of September 1995,' he said. He glanced at the clock on his bedside table and corrected himself. '3rd September.'

'Oh,' Harry said quietly. He got on his knees and sat down behind Severus.

'Let me.' Gently he removed the older man's hands from his neck and shoulders and began to massage the knotted muscles with great care.

Severus groaned appreciatively. A couple of _Hhmmm_s and _yes_es later, Harry placed a single butterfly kiss between Severus's shoulder blades.

'I'm sorry,' he said.

Severus, now being able to move around freely again, turned around and looked at him in surprise. 'What for? That was _good_! Who in Merlin's name taught you how to do that?'

Harry grinned broadly. 'You did.'

Then he became serious. 'I meant I'm sorry for causing all that trouble back then. I mean … today. Yesterday. It's my fault he did that to you. I'm sorry.'

'Hey!' Severus took Harry's hands in his. 'You didn't do anything wrong, Potter. It wasn't you who-'

But Harry shook his head. 'I should have kept quiet about my stay at Snape Manor. I should have stayed quiet about my friendship with Draco, my feelings for you, my … everything. I made everything so much harder for us.'

Severus gave Harry's hands a tight squeeze. 'We're the ones to blame. No, _I'm_ the one to blame! I should have told you right away. Incidentally, did Draco talk to you about …?'

'About our masquerade?' Harry asked, gazing down at his watch, 'He should be doing it as we speak, actually.'

Severus raised his eyes in disbelief. 'At this very moment? You two are supposed to be in bed!'

'Well, I am,' Harry defended himself. 'Both, here and there, even.'

Severus's look was still one of disbelief. 'Are you trying to tell me that my godson snuck up to the Gryffindor Tower and into your dorm room?'

Harry snickered. 'Not quite. That would have been interesting, though. But he only snuck into the infirmary.'

'INFIRMARY?'

Harry shifted uncomfortably. 'But don't worry! I'm okay. It's just … I felt it … our connection. The Crucio. I kind of … fainted.'

Severus blanched. 'You _felt_ it? Already?'

Harry nodded. 'Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey were trying to sell it to me as a food poisoning, though.' He grinned at Severus who snorted contemptuously.

'Witty. Did you buy it?'

A mild glow started to spread on Harry's cheeks and he averted his eyes. 'Well, no. Yes. No,' he stuttered. 'I guess I didn't, but I wanted to. Pretty badly! I wanted to believe that you were okay. Everything else would have been too weird … you know?'

Severus smirked. 'Realizing you're bound for life to your twenty years older, greasy, old Potions master who you thought always hated your guts, you mean? Yes, I kind of do.'

Harry shook his head with a smile. 'That's not what I meant,' he said earnestly. 'But that reminds me …' He climbed out of the bed.

'You. Me. Shower. Now.'

* * *

Draco clicked his tongue. 'Honestly Potter, do Gryffindors always have to be such drama queens?' he grinned before putting the Tabulas Loquoram on Harry bed. The Gryffindor watched as he lifted the back of his shirt, pulled his own plate out of the waistband of his dark sweats and put it next to Harry's. 

'Give me your hands,' Draco said.

'What?' Harry asked with a very small voice.

'Hands. Now.'

Harry stretched out his hands towards Draco, eying him nervously.

Draco sighed. 'Oh by Merlin's beard, I'm not going to bite them off. Put them here, like this.'

He took Harry's hands and placed each on one of the two Tabulas Loquorams. Then he pulled out his wand and began chanting an incantation that sounded mighty impressive to Harry and repeatedly tapping his wand on each of Harry's outstretched fingers. Harry's hands slowly began to tickle.

'Okay, you can take them off again,' Draco commanded after a little while. Harry carefully removed his hands as though he was afraid to break the spell.

'What did you do?' he asked, rubbing his fingers.

'I'm putting a security hex on them,' Draco replied and pressed his own right hand on Harry's Tabulas Loquoram. With his wand hand he repeated the previous spell before using it on his own plate. When he was done, Draco looked rather smug.

'I'm good.'

Harry only smiled in agreement. 'So what's this "security hex" exactly?' he asked.

'Only when you and I are touching the Tabulas Loquorams, they will work,' Draco explained. 'Should anyone else try to read them, our messages will not appear on the other one. Nor will anyone but us be able to _send_ messages.'

Harry's smile broke into a grin. _'Thank you,'_ his eyes said. 'Why are you doing this?' he wanted to know. 'Why are you taking such a risk? Security spells or not?'

For a long time Draco didn't answer.

'I have my reasons,' he said finally. 'But I will need your help, Potter. Because you're absolutely correct, this _is_ a risk! _You _are a riskuntil you manage to keep your emotions in check. You'll need to learn how to hide your feelings, otherwise you're a danger. To yourself and everyone around you. You wouldn't be here if it wasn't so.'

Harry's head jerked upwards. His mouth opened, but he seemed too stunned to say anything.

Draco smiled mirthlessly. 'Harry, please! Dumbledore might fool your naïve little friends into believing you were only suffering from a harmless Muggle food poisoning, but not me. I know a Crucio when I see one! And you do too.'

Harry tensed.

'It's not what you think,' he said quietly.

'Nonsense,' Draco said impatiently. 'Somebody attacked you tonight! And as much as I hate to say it, it was probably someone in my house. On our first day back at school!'

For a moment Harry looked as though he wanted to argue Draco's theory, but then he nodded. 'I will learn,' he said softly. 'I promise.'

Almost shyly he smiled at Draco. 'Be patient, though. I'm a Gryffindor.'

Draco returned Harry's lopsided grin with a smirk of his own. 'That's okay, little one, we can both learn from each other,' he said generously, patting Harry's shoulder. 'I will teach you to start pretending you have no heart …'

Harry sighed heavily at the prospect. 'And what'll I teach you?' he asked.

'How to stop.'

_**To be continued**_


	19. The Garden of Eden

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* * *

**

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

* * *

Chapter 19  
**"The Garden of Eden"**

"HARRY JAMES POTTER! YOU ARE NOT GOING TO LEAVE THIS INFIRMARY!"

But Harry was already bolting through the door at the long end of the room.

'Sorry, Madam Pomfrey, but I really don't want to miss out on any lessons! You know, OWL year and all …,' was the last thing the Medi-witch heard of him before the double doors swung close behind the famous young wizard.

His wand between his teeth, Harry Potter raced downstairs in breakneck speed, all the while worming his way into his school robes, balancing a stack of books and stowing away his Tabulas Loquoram into his bag at the same time. That miraculous little plate that only seconds ago had showed those few words that Harry had been so anxious to see …

_HE'S BACK!_

Somehow Harry managed to make it down the moving staircase and into the dungeons in one piece. By the time he reached the Potions classroom, however, he was hopelessly out of breath. Panting, Harry alternately straightened his Gryffindor tie, held a stitch in his side and tried to flatten his unruly black hair. His heart was beating loudly in his ears.

As soon as he regained some form of composure (_'Wipe that stupid grin off your face, Potter!_'), he rapped his knuckles against the door in front of him and stepped inside the classroom.

'GoodmorningandsorryI'mlateIoverslept.'

Neither looking left nor right, Harry rushed forward and slid behind the empty desk next to Hermione. Figuring he could hold off the inevitable (and highly unmanly) blush and stutter at least for as long as he didn't _look_ at his Potions master, Harry dived into his bag and began rummaging for …

_Oh, who cares?_

He had to look at him. Just had to. HAD TO.

Casually, Harry glanced up from his bag and towards the teacher's desk up front.

_No Severus._

As unobtrusively as possible Harry looked to the right side of the classroom where the man would no doubt be busy favoring Draco or any of his other Slytherins.

_No Severus._

Harry frowned.

'Mister Potter. What an honor of you to join the hoi polloi of Hogwarts on such a beautiful morning.'

_So there he is!_

Oh, to think that once upon a time this low, silky voice behind him had given him the creeps! Now it was enough to make Harry go weak in the knees.

_Good thing I'm sitting, really._

Harry knew that, at this very moment, turning around was not an option. After all, throwing oneself at his most hated teacher and crying '_Thank God, you're okay! I'm so glad you're back!'_ would not exactly serve as a demonstration of his brand new 'I have no heart and I don't give a damn about you' attitude. No, not at all.

'Are you sure you don't have anything better to do on this beautiful morning, Potter? A snitch to catch? A world to safe? No?'

Oh, to think that once upon a time these words would have made him want to rip Snape's throat out. Now it was all Harry could do to keep himself from giggling. Oh, and to rip his clothes off, alright.

_Yes, good thing I'm sitting. Really._

'Nope,' Harry said rather stiffly, letting his bag slide underneath the table, 'I'm splendid. But thanks for asking, sir, I appreciate your concern.'

Some of the Slytherins gasped. Some of the Gryffindors groaned. Trust Harry Potter on giving their most vile teacher in the history of Hogwarts a headache already during the first five minutes of his first lesson of the year. A headache they would _all_ have to suffer for.

However, Snape's upper lip curled into something that could _almost_ be interpreted as something close to resembling a smile by the Gryffindors, had they thought the Slytherin Head of house capable of such a mundane act.

'Why, aren't I glad,' he said simply and then swept past Harry's desk and in front of the class.

Harry quickly looked down on his table, feeling a blush working its way up his neck already.

'_Well, that didn't go too bad,' _he thought._ 'There used to be a time when I had to suffer his wrath for being late. Or giving cheek. Not to mention being late AND giving cheek.'_

'As I was saying ... before you had the indefinite graciousness to join this class, Mister Potter … today we will be mixing the Draught of Peace, a potion to calm the anxiety and agitation of its drinker. It's a potion that often comes up at OWL examinations, so I expect you all to pay close attention.'

Next to Harry, Hermione straightened up. Harry followed suit.

He had no heart, alright, but he had an ambition. This year he would be a good student! Well, in Potions anyway. He would pay attention, he would make Severus proud.

_Blush or no blush._

However, an hour and twenty minutes later Harry came to realize he could not have chosen a more difficult potion to prove his newfound ambition with.

Wiping the sweat of his forehead, Harry looked around the classroom, only slightly relieved that his wasn't the only cauldron not issuing the anticipated light silver vapour as of yet. Only Hermione's potion, if Severus's silent glare into her cauldron was any indication, seemed to have reached the right consistency by now.

When he looked down on Harry's cauldron, however, Snape raised his eyebrows dubiously.

'What is this?'

Harry swallowed. 'The Draught of Peace,' he said tensely, knowing already that the steaming liquid in his cauldron was anything but.

'Tell me, Potter, can you read?'

Somewhere to Harry's right, Draco Malfoy laughed.

'Yes, I can,' Harry answered quietly.

So maybe he wasn't ready to take up the post as substitute Potions master just yet, but the man had to acknowledge his effort at least, Harry thought bitterly – but not without hope.

Apparently Professor Snape didn't agree.

'Well, I don't think you can, Potter,' he smirked. 'Otherwise you would have added the syrup of hellbore to your potion as I instructed quite clearly in the third line on the blackboard in front of you. _Evanesco_.'

With a lazy flick of his wand, he emptied Harry's cauldron. 'That would be a 'D' for you, Mister Potter. How very … unsurprising.'

* * *

'The man might have given you a home, Potter, but that doesn't make you his favorite student all of a sudden.' 

When Harry grimaced back in a _'Thanks for your sympathy. Jerk.'_ kind of way, Draco couldn't stop himself from laughing.

'What, were you after the Student of the Year award or something?'

'Are we there yet?' Harry answered indignantly.

Draco grinned. 'Almost.'

'That's what you said an hour ago.'

'You're exaggerating as always. Anyway, this Invisibility Cloak is not much good if we keep talking like this, you know?' Draco asked, sounding rather unconcerned. 'Incidentally, this thing is really quite impressive. Do you reckon I can talk my parents into giving me one for Christmas?'

'Are we there yet?'

'Almost.'

Harry sighed. 'You know, hunching underneath my Invisibility Cloak with the King of Slytherins while wandering the Slytherins' dungeons in the middle of the night is not as much fun as you made it out to be.'

Draco put a hand on his heart. 'Why, I'm flattered,' he whispered. 'So you think I'm Slytherin royalty, huh? A king even. No, _the_ king …'

'ARE WE THERE-'

Draco laughed. 'If it makes you feel better, I doubt this is still Slytherin territory. And don't worry, I told Voldemort that I'd take the night off today. So fear not, I won't suddenly drag you off into his … ', Draco waved his hand impatiently, '… well, wherever it is he's lurking. Not tonight anyway.'

Harry raised his eyes towards the Invisibility Cloak above his head. 'I liked you so much better when you weren't funny, Malfoy.'

'Oh, but I was always funny. You only had to learn to appreciate it.'

'Well, I don't.'

'Well, I'm hurt.'

'You're too arrogant to be hurt.'

'True.'

Harry giggled. Nudging Draco's elbow with his own, he asked: 'And are we there yet?'

'Actually … we are.'

Harry blinked.

'We are standing in front of a stone wall, Draco,' he observed.

'Stand back, Muggle, and watch the Master. I mean … _King._'

Smiling sweetly at Harry, Draco stuck his hand through the thin fabric in front of him and pressed it against the stone wall. 'Living among wizards these past four years has taught you nothing, has it?' Draco smirked.

Harry was glad that Malfoy couldn't see his glowing ears in the dark. Hopefully.

'Get a move on,' he grunted.

But Draco hesitated.

He dropped his hand again and looked at Harry. Suddenly he pulled the Invisibility Cloak over their heads (Harry quickly looked around to make sure they really were alone) and said: 'Promise me that you will never, ever tell anyone about this place. Anyone. Ever.'

Harry nodded. 'I won't.'

'No, say it. Promise me. Promise you won't tell-'

'Anyone, ever. I got it,' Harry interrupted. 'I mean, I promise,' he added quickly. 'I _promise_ promise.'

'That includes EVERYBODY,' Draco insisted. 'Granger, Weasley, your dogfather, every single person you know!'

Harry yawned. 'I don't know what can possibly be so special a place behind a dirty old stone wall at the end of a stinky little tunnel, but I told you! I promise.'

'Oh, but it _is_ a special place,' Draco said softly and placed his flat hand on the stone wall once more.

'Open,' he said, in a language that wasn't human and yet familiar to Harry's ears.

And when the wall in front of them resolved into thin air, Harry saw that Draco wasn't lying …

* * *

Lucius Malfoy was pleased. 

'I think it's fair to say the new school year has started well,' he said, leaning back in his chair with a look of utmost satisfaction.

'My son is on his best way of gaining the object's trust. Not much longer now and the operation can begin.'

'Are you sure of it?' Nott tried his best not to sound too unconvinced and be the one to ruin Lucius Malfoy's good mood.

Lucius merely smiled. 'Oh, I'm sure of it,' he said pleasantly. 'This is my flesh and blood we're talking about. Draco will earn himself exactly the position he wants with our object, I have no doubt about it. And soon the others, your boy-,' he nodded appreciatively, '-will follow.'

'What about our spy in the Ministry?'

Lucius waved his hand. 'I prefer to get my reports right from … the battlefield.' This time his smile bared a row of gleaming white teeth. 'And as it so happens, at this very moment the battlefield is our children's school.'

* * *

Apparently Draco was right. 

Living among wizards seemed to have taught Harry nothing indeed, given the fact that the landscape that spread out in front of him startled him the way it did.

A jungle.

Myriads of colors were competing for Harry's attention. Armies of flowers and plants he had never seen before were dancing softly on a breeze that Harry _knew_ wasn't there on his side of the tunnel, where the air was as stale and dry as a Troll's behind.

Even so, Harry hesitated to step inside.

'What is this place?' he asked.

Draco, who already stood knee-deep in a patch of something violet that now slowly crept up his black robes, spread his arms and laughed.

'This, Potter, is the Garden of Eden.'

'What do you know about Christian mythology?'

Draco shrugged. 'Well, this place looks just like you'd imagine it, doesn't it?'

Harry had to admit that Draco had a point.

'Well, the Garden of Eden had a nasty old snake,' he reasoned from his side of the tunnel. 'And … apples. And we all know what good they were for.'

Draco, who gently pulled the violet plant off his clothes now, chuckled. 'It also had a naked Adam and Eve running around and I can assure you, there'll be none of that here. But come inside already, before somebody sees us.'

Gingerly Harry took one step forward. Immediately the wall behind him closed and was replaced by a thicket of flowers.

'Come on!' Draco waved.

But Harry didn't move. 'How did you find this place?'

Draco frowned. 'I … sort of … accidentally did.'

'You sort of accidentally ran into an old stone wall, figured you'd speak Parseltongue and it would open?' Harry asked very skeptically.

'Yes,' Draco said simply.

Harry stared. 'Alright. I'm leaving,' he said and turned around, but Draco held him back.

'Harry, wait!'

He came wading through the thick, green grass until he stood in front of Harry. 'Of course it wasn't _that_ easy. I spent days in front of that wall, trying all sorts of spells to open it until I figured I might not need a certain spell to open it but a certain language. And well …,' he grinned impishly, '… who knows, maybe this still _is_ Slytherin territory. And then what would make more sense than to try-'

'Parseltongue,' Harry finished the sentence.

Draco nodded.

'I didn't even know you could speak it.'

Draco cleared his throat. 'Well, I can't. That's basically the only thing I can say. If 'Open' hadn't done the trick, I would probably still be sitting in front of that wall with a Parseltongue dictionary.'

'There's a Parseltongue dictionary?'

'No, you imbecile. I was just trying to be funny.'

'Well, you're not.'

'Well, I'm hurt.'

Harry laughed and let himself be pulled further into the magnificent Garden. He had to admit this place, whatever it was, was beautiful. There was even a little waterfall that seemed to come out of nowhere and ended in a small pond that was surrounded by a solitude of trees. Harry had never seen Draco this excited before. The Slytherin was practically glowing, pointing to one particular plant or another, clearly enjoying himself and the nature around them. And although Harry found that only the gardens of Snape Manor held more appeal for him, he couldn't quite shake off a feeling of suspicion.

'_Constant vigilance,'_ echoed in his head. _'Constant vigilance!'_

At last Draco noticed his unease.

'You don't like this place!' he said flatly, either unable or unwilling to hide the disappointment in his voice.

Harry shook his head. 'No, I do. It's just …' He sighed. 'Look, the last time I saw a chamber miles underneath Hogwarts grounds being opened in Parseltongue, things didn't go quite so well.'

Draco looked at him blankly.

'Are you're talking about the Chamber of Secrets?' he asked at last.

Harry nodded.

Draco sighed. 'Potter, there's no naked Adam and Eve's here and there certainly is no Tom Riddle.'

Harry grinned.

A second later Draco caught on. 'Be it naked or dressed,' he deadpanned and Harry chuckled.

'Draco, I'm sorry,' he said then. 'It's not that I think you're going to …' He stopped, unsure of what to say. 'It's not like I'm afraid you'll …' He stopped again.

Draco smirked.

'I think what you are trying to say, in your very own lucid ways, is that you trust me. Right, Potter?'

Harry nodded.

'But that you don't trust my judgment.'

Harry shook his head. 'No, that's not it!' he protested. 'But … yes, okay. Yes, maybe that's it. I mean, how do you know that Voldemort doesn't know about this place?'

'Easy. This place didn't exist yet when Riddle was roaming this school.'

'It didn't? Then who created it?'

Draco didn't answer.

'Draco, who created this place?'

At last Draco looked at him, his expression serene.

'My father did.'

_**To be continued**_

* * *

**Author's Note:**  
There will be more Harry/Snape soon, I promise, because this will not turn out to be Harry/Draco slash -believe it or not ;-).

* * *


	20. A new depth of low

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

* * *

Chapter 20  
**"A new depth of low"**

During the next three months Harry often found himself wishing for a time-turner. A time-turner that would either propel him into the past, where he would then find a way to miraculously prevent Umbridge from ever stepping foot on Hogwarts grounds … or into the future, where the name Dolores Umbridge would hopefully be nothing but a real bad memory.

No, Harry hadn't imagined his fifth year to be like this. He was as far from being the witty, confident and sophisticated Youth that he had hoped to become this year as he was from being Severus's new star-student. In fact, Harry was already lucky whenever he managed to do any of his homework. In time. Outside of detention.

Yes, Harry was sure he had now officially broke the record for _"most detentions ... ever"_. Not that this was something to be proud of. Not when you wanted to impress your Potions master anyway. Harry and Snape had hardly spoken ten sentences with each other during the past few months, which must have been yet another record. Even (or especially) for Harry. He almost wished to be sneered at again by the Potions teacher. Anything was better than this … _nothing_.

And to make things worse, he hadn't seen very much of Draco either lately, although Harry knew he was the only one to blame. When Draco suggested to make the_ Garden of Eden _their secret meeting place, Harry had been … reluctant, to say the least.  
Harry guessed Draco was still disappointed in him (_'If Weaselbee had brought you here and told you his dad created the Garden, you would've never wanted to leave again!")_, but he had no chance to find out.

He was too busy fitting in homework and Quidditch practices within those pathetic fifteen minutes of spare time that were left once you deducted all those hours of detention he spent in Professor Umbridge's office these days. Even sleep had become a luxury. A luxury so rare that Harry was unwilling to trade it for secret meetings in the middle of the night, as much as he missed hanging out with the Slytherin.  
A few times Draco still asked Harry if he wanted to meet up somewhere on Hogwarts grounds, but after he had replied with _"Sorry, I can't. Not tonight."_ for the third time in a row, the Tabulas Loquoram remained blank, so that now the only thing Harry ever heard from the Slytherin was the standard insult that fell every time they passed each other in between lessons.

It was just past midnight when Harry was allowed to leave this evenings' detention - the second in only three days. But apart from that he had long lost count of how many hours and evenings he had already wasted in that horrible teachers' company. He only wished his hand was equally forgetful. By now it was throbbing almost constantly - whether he was sitting in Dolores's office doing lines or not, it didn't matter anymore.  
Harry still hadn't told anyone about Umbridge's peculiar disciplinary methods. The only ones who knew were Ron and Hermione and he had made them promise not to tell anything. If Umbridge wanted to get to Harry, she'd have to find a different way. He wouldn't let her get to him.

She wasn't worth it.

Now, after another good three hours of "doing lines", his right hand was once more bleeding profusely. Harry stopped next to the statue of Merlin, II. The handkerchief that was wrapped around the wound was already soaking in blood. He cursed and removed the bloody tissue before he took off his long Gryffindor scarf and wrapped it tightly around his hand a couple of times.

'Out for another midnight stroll, Potter?"

Harry drove around.

'P-Professor Snape!"

Harry quickly hid his hands behind his back. If there was one person other than Umbridge that Harry didn't want to think of him as weak, it was Severus Snape.

'I'm not strolling,' he defended himself. 'I had detention.'

Snape raised his eyebrows and Harry felt himself blush under the man's suspicious gaze.

'Detention? It's midnight,' Snape pointed out.

Harry nodded. 'Yeah, I … I know. It was … erm … a pretty long detention.' He blushed some more.

'A pretty long detention _with_?' Snape inquired.

Harry looked down at his feet. 'Umbridge,' he said quietly.

'_Professor_ Umbridge,' Snape corrected softly. Then he stepped closer and said: "Show me your hands, Potter."

"What? Why? I haven't done anything wrong!' Harry protested.

Snape merely looked at him.

Harry groaned in rebellion and reluctantly held out his left hand that was curled into a tight fist. Snape took it and as soon as their hands made contact Harry's fingers seemed to develop a will of their own: They opened and released the blood-soaked handkerchief. Snape frowned.

'I had a nosebleed.' Harry lied quickly.

'Your other hand.'

'Professor!'

'Your _other_ hand, Potter!'

Harry sighed. Then he held out his other hand.

Snape's eyes narrowed as they fell upon the make-shift bandage that was Harry's scarf. Without a word, he began to unwrap it.

* * *

It looked as though somebody had used dark red ink to paint the words _"I must not tell lies"_ onto the pale, soft skin on Harry's hand. Only on second glance did Severus realize that the ink was coming from _inside_ the writing. The ink wasn't ink. 

It was Harry's own blood.

For a moment all Severus could do was stare at the grotesque sight in front of him.

Anger started boiling inside of him but then, before it could erupt, a blast of humiliation hit him, tearing his eyes off Harry's hand. Severus realized how ashamed his mate was, although he couldn't for the life of him understand why. Surely the boy knew that torture did not count as a valid disciplinary method? Not even at a wizarding school. _Especially_ not at a wizarding school.

Severus released Harry's hand and looked at him. The Gryffindor looked away, blinking rapidly.

'Come with me, Harry.'

The shock of hearing his own first name out of Severus's mouth dried Harry's leaking eyes twice as efficiently as they widened in surprise. Severus smiled. He put a hand on Harry's neck and gently began to steer the boy across the corridor, down the stairs and into the dungeons. None of them spoke.

Severus stopped in front of the Potions classroom.

'Go inside,' he told Harry. 'I'll be right with you."

Wordlessly Harry nodded and did as he was told. Meanwhile Severus unlocked the door next to that of the Potions classroom and stepped into the small chamber that lay behind. Inside the Supply Room, Severus took a flask off the many shelves, uncorked it and sniffed at the yellow liquid inside (Rule no. 1 of any Potions master: Always check the content instead of relying on its label alone. Not that there had ever been a mistake before, thank you very much.).  
He nodded approvingly and carried the flask over into the Potions classroom, where Harry was sitting behind his usual desk, looking small and forlorn, cradling his bleeding hand. Severus pulled up a chair and sat down next to his mate. He summoned a bowl from the storage cupboard and while the basin floated across the classroom, he took Harry's disfigured hand in his own.

Severus sensed the delicate mixture of embarrassment and excitement that filled the teenager as they touched and it was all he could do not to smile. Seemingly unaffected he swished his wand over Harry's stained hand and lower arm and they watched as the blood began to resolve into thin air almost immediately.

'Cool!' Harry said respectfully.

Without releasing Harry's hand, Severus uncorked the flask with his other hand and poured the potion into the bowl that had just landed on the desk next to them.

'The Essence of Murtlap,' he explained. 'This will ease the pain.'

He dipped Harry's hand into the yellow liquid. 'Soak your hand in it for a while.'

A smile spread out on Harry's face and he closed his eyes, relaxing visibly.

'That's better!' he sighed contentedly. He opened his eyes again and looked at Severus. 'Thank you, Professor.'

Severus nodded. Then he asked: 'How long has this kind of …. _detention_ … been going on, Potter?'

Harry studied his hand inside the bowl. The words _"I must not tell lies" _shimmered like red threads inside the yellow fluid.

'Ever since she got here, really,' he said quietly.

Severus took great pride in being unusually self-restrained. If he hadn't been, he would have blasted a great, big hole into the ancient stone wall at the far end of the room – angry as he was.

'Is your Head of house aware of this?' he asked instead, his voice strained. It was a rhetorical question, really. Professor McGonagall would never tolerate torture.

Harry still didn't dare to look Severus in the eyes, but his voice was steady when he said: 'Nobody knows except Ron and Hermione. And I would like to keep it that way, sir, if you don't mind.'

To say Severus was stunned would be an understatement. 'Why?' was all he could ask.

'This is between Umbridge and me,' said Harry simply. 'She's trying to wear me down and I won't give her that satisfaction. Besides, if you or Professor McG would confront her about it, she'd only pass another decree saying that anyone who complains about the High Inquisitor gets sacked. And then you'd have to leave Hogwarts. And I …'

He looked at Severus.

'I don't want that.'

* * *

'Tell me again, why am I here?' 

Harry looked decidedly unhappy among his little group of friends as they walked down Hogsmeade's main street without stopping at any of the colorful, little shops like all the other students around them. Hermione smiled broadly, did a funny sort of jig and said happily: "Because you agreed to teach us all Defence against the Dark Arts, Harry!"

Then, before Harry could stop her, she wrapped her arms around his neck and – without breaking her stride - pressed a resounding smack on his cheek. Harry screwed up his face, but he grinned.

'Hermione, don't bother,' came Fred's voice from behind them. 'He's gay.'

Harry turned around. 'You like saying that, don't you?'

Fred seemed to think about this. A few second later he cheerfully replied: 'You know what, I think I do.'

Grinning, he pretended to tip his head, when Harry made rolled his eyes at the twin before turning around to Hermione again. They walked past the post office and turned up a small side-street.

'Almost there,' Hermione announced.

'Hermione, nobody's gonna be there!' Harry whined. 'This was a bad idea, I'm telling you.'

'You just wait and see,' said Ginny wisely and Hermione nodded in agreement. 'You'll be surprised,' she said. 'Right, Ron?'

She nudged Ron who seemed lost in a daydream, walking next to her in a daze. 'Ron?' she repeated.

'Shhh!' Ron said, bringing an index finger to his lips. 'Don't disturb me, I'm replaying.'

'Replaying?' Hermione frowned.

'Replaying,' Ron confirmed with a beatific smile. His eyes were closed now. 'Umbridge puking all over the Great Hall … Best. Movie. Ever."

Everyone laughed.

'That woman sure has a nervous stomach lately,' George grinned.

'I wonder if somebody's trying to poison her,' Ginny mused.

Hermione shook her head. 'That can't be. I've heard all of Madam Pomfrey's tests where negative.'

'She could be manipulating the test results,' Fred suggested.

'Or...,' George said pointedly, looking at Harry, '…somebody at Hogwarts sure knows how to use their potions.'

Harry calmly returned George's gaze. A small smile was tugging at his lips, but he said nothing.

'Yes,' said Ron, oblivious to the silent exchange that had just taken place between his brother and Harry. 'I mean, it's kinda funny how every teacher is always eating the same things, but Umbridge is the one who ends up with signs of food poisoning these days. Right, Harry?'

They stopped in front of a small inn. A battered wooden sign hung over the door, creaking in the cold November wind. _'Hog's Head'_ it said.

Harry opened the door and led the way inside.

'Yeah!' he said. 'Somebody out there seems to hate Umbridge even more than I do. Funny that.'

* * *

'That went quite well for a first meeting, didn't it?' said Hermione happily, looking after Cho Chang who was the last to leave the Hog's Head (but not after one last look and wave in Harry's direction). When the door closed behind her, the pub was empty except for the trio. 

'She likes you, you know?' Hermione said bluntly, causing Harry to choke on his Butterbeer.

'She? What? Cho?' he spluttered. 'Yeah, well, I like her, too. I … guess.'

'You do?' Ron chimed in, sounding hopeful.

Harry grinned. 'Well, not like _that_, obviously, but she's nice enough.'

He frowned at the expression on his friend's face. 'What?'

Ron shrugged, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 'It's just … all I'm saying … don't you think you should give it a try at least?'

'Give _what_ a try?' Harry raised his eyebrows. He thought he knew the answer already.

'Girls,' Ron replied, studying the bottle of Butterbeer in his hands.

_Bingo._

'And I need to do that … _why_?' asked Harry dangerously.

'Because then maybe you'd find out you're not really gay at all,' Ron replied unhappily, still looking anywhere but at Harry. 'I mean, you've never even kissed a guy. Or a girl. So how can you know for sure?'

'Have _you_ ever kissed a bloke to make sure you're really into girls?' Harry wanted to know.

'HELL NO!' Ron exclaimed scandalized.

'I see,' said Harry calmly. 'So what you're saying is that you're absolutely certain you prefer girls even though you've never kissed one of them either. Tell me again, why does that rule not apply to me?'

Ron's ears went pink. 'Dunno,' he said quietly.

Harry took a deep breath. Then he forced a smile and turned around to Hermione.

'Anyway, I was thinking,' he said. 'We should ask the Slytherins if they want to come to our DA meetings as well. It's not fair otherwise, is it?'

Hermione's mouth dropped open. So did Ron's.

'B-but Harry!' Hermione stuttered. 'We've talked about this. It's too dangerous. What if they'll tell on us?'

'Right now I'm more worried about that Zacharias Smith bloke,' Harry retorted. 'Or Cho's miserable friend, for example. How can we know _they_ will keep quiet?' he asked, before answering his own question a moment later: 'We _can't_ know until something happens. Or doesn't happen for that matter. Same goes for any of the Slytherins. I'll ask Draco what he thinks. He can then decide who can or can't be trusted.'

Ron's eyes grew wide. 'YOU STILL…' he started, but at Harry's warning look, he stopped himself, glanced around the pub to make sure nobody was listening and lowered his voice. 'You still talk to that gi- … _person_?' he asked after another withering look from Harry.

'Not so much at the moment,' Harry admitted. 'But I'm going to. I want him to be there at our DA meetings. It's not like he learns any more than we do during Umbridge's lessons. Not that I think he needs me to teach him any magic, mind.' He smiled. 'But at least I want to tell him about it, so he can decide for himself.'

'But you can't tell Malfoy!' Ron protested.

'Harry,' Hermione said softly, ignoring Ron completely. 'I doubt he'll want to come. If Draco attends those meetings and lets _you_ teach him DADA in front of all the other students, then your whole "We keep pretending to hate each other" plan will … _crumble_, right? Publicly.'

Harry shrugged. 'Yeah, well, so what? I was never so fond of that plan anyway.'

* * *

They stared at the notice board in front of them with open mouths. 

'By order of the High Inquisitor of Hogwarts,' George read out loud. 'All student organizations, societies, teams, groups and clubs are henceforth disbanded. Permission to re-form may be sought from the High Inquisitor, Professor Umbridge.'

'What about Quidditch?' Ron asked weakly.

'Any student found to have formed, or to belong to, an organization, society, team, group or club that has not been approved by the High Inquisitor will be expelled,' Fred continued.

'She knows,' said Harry darkly.

Hermione shook her head. 'That can't be!' she said stonily. 'I jinxed the parchment we all signed at the Hog's Head. Believe me, we would know if somebody ran off and told Umbridge of the DA. We would _see_.'

She explained all about the hex she had put on the paper. Harry, Ron and Ginny applauded, while George and Fred looked at Hermione with expressions full of awe and utmost respect.

'You know, it's never too late to consider a career in the joke shop business,' George said jovially, putting an arm around Hermione's shoulders as they began traipsing down the stairs.Hermione laughed, but quickly became serious again.

'Have you told Malfoy about the DA?' she asked, looking at Harry.

'No!' replied Harry angrily. 'I haven't had time to talk to him yet. But he wouldn't tell on us. I know he wouldn't!'

She seemed to believe him, Harry noticed with relief. However, when he reached the dungeons a few minutes later with her and Ron, Hermione was starting to look rather dubious again.

Not that Harry could blame her.

Draco was standing in front of Snape's classroom, surrounded by a group of Slytherins who were looking at him with admiration not unlike the one Harry had seen on the twin's faces not too long ago. 'Oh, but of course Umbridge gave the Slytherin Quidditch team permission to continue playing straightaway, when I went to ask her first thing this morning!'

As usual Draco was speaking much louder than necessary, making sure none of his words went unheard. 'No problem whatsoever. She knows my father very well, of course …'

He stopped when he saw Harry approaching. His smug smile broadened at the sight of the Gryffindor trio and he asked loudly: 'I only wonder if Gryffindor is allowed to keep on playing.'

'Well, don't we all?' Harry muttered irritably. He walked past the Slytherins (making sure to accidentally bump into one of their first years; being friends with Draco gave you ideas!), but stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he had entered the Potions classroom.

Hermione and Ron followed his silent glare towards a dim corner of the dungeon. There, clipboard on her knees and everything, sat Professor Umbridge.

Was this inspection a coincidence or was Umbridge becoming suspicious of Severus? Had she found out that he had given Harry the Essence of Murtlap? Had she found out that Severus was responsible for her morning sicknesses? Her lunchtime sicknesses? Her dinner sicknesses? Oh, of course Harry couldn't know any this for sure. Maybe Snape had nothing to do with any of it. But … it figured, did it not? Well, no … it didn't figure.

Because that would imply that Severus was barking mad at Umbridge for treating Harry the way she did, which would imply that he cared about Harry. Nope. That couldn't be.

Could it?

No, it couldn't.

Or … could it?

The echoing bang of the closing dungeon door snapped Harry out of his thoughts. He quickly slid behind his desk when he saw Professor Snape striding through the room.

'As you have no doubt noticed by now,'Severus said in his famous low, sneeringvoice (Goosebumps started spreading on Harry's arms in rapid speed). 'We have a guest today.'

He then proceeded his lesson in the usual manner, ignoring the High Inquisitor's presence completely, until Professor Umbridge got up from her chair half an hour later and walked over to Severus, who was just bending over the Strengthening Potion inside Dean Thomas's cauldron.

'This class seems fairly advanced for its level,' she said curtly.

'Fairly?' Snape merely sneered, still peering into Dean's cauldron.

Harry felt himself swelling himself with pride … momentarily willing to ignore the fact that he himself was far less than fairly advanced. Severus was defending their honor!

_Oh boy, he's pissed off._

'However,' Dolores Umbridge continued unfazed, 'I'm sure the Ministry would prefer if a potion like the Strengthening Potion was removed from the syllabus.'

Snape straightened up slowly before turning around to look at her. Every other person – student or teacher – would have withered under his intimidating glare, Harry thought, but apparently Umbridge was immune to Severus's … er … _charisma_.

'For how long have you been teaching at Hogwarts?' she asked.

'Fourteen years,' answered Severus, his face unreadable.

'I see.' Professor Umbridge scribbled something on her clipboard. 'And is it true that you first applied for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post, Professor?' she then wanted to know.

'Correct,' Snape said quietly.

'You were unsuccessful, I take it?'

Snape's eyes narrowed. 'Obviously,' he sneered.

Again, Professor Umbridge made notes on her clipboard.

'And is it also true that you have applied for the Defence Against the Dark Arts post regularly ever since you joined the school?'

Harry moved on his seat and made a small protesting sound, only _just_ able to stop himself before any words escaped his lips. When the two teachers turned to look at him, he quickly buried his nose inside his copy of _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_.

Professor Umbridge still seemed to be waiting for an answer from Snape.

'Well?' she inquired.

'Yes,' Snape answered through clenched teeth. 'Yes, I have.'

'And do you happen to have any idea why Dumbledore keeps refusing to appoint you?' asked Umbridge sweetly.

Severus Snape's face turned white with anger.

A deafening silence filled the room as every student stopped stirring in their cauldrons or shuffling with their books and notes. Every single head in the dungeon was turned to listen to the two teachers standing in the middle of the room, when suddenly … an earth-shattering, reverberating clang followed by a dangerously high hissing noise made them all jump and turn around to identify the source.

'Ooops,' Harry Potter said. 'Clumsy me. I think I've dropped my cauldron. It's not dangerous, is it, sir, this unfinished Strengthening Potion?' He pointed at the hissing, green liquid that seemed to be eating its way through wooden floor now, swiftly snaking forward.

The girls squealed and jumped onto their chairs. The boys rushed to carry their school bags into a safety zone.

Needless to say, in that entire ruckus Severus never managed to answer Professor Umbridge's last question …

**_To be continued_**


	21. Confessions

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**

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

* * *

Chapter 21  
**"Confessions"**

'Out of my way, midget!'

The tiny first-year jumped, eyes wide as saucers, out of Draco's way. 'Sorry sir!' he squeaked and Draco paused. _Sir?_ Had he really just managed to terrify a first-year into calling him _sir_? That was a record. Even for him. He turned out around to apologize for his rudeness, but the little Slytherin was already racing up the stairs that led from the dungeons to the Entrance Hall. Draco sighed.  
When he turned back around, he saw Severus standing in the portrait hole of his personal quarters, arms crossed. Draco sighed again, melodramatically.

'I know, I know,' he said, raising his arms in defeat. 'Letting my atrocious mood out on a fledgling has absolutely no style. I'll work on it.'

Severus raised his eyebrows. 'Atrocious, huh?'

'Hmm,' Draco agreed, looking at the floor.

'Come inside,' Severus said. 'I think we need to talk.'

* * *

With a heavy sigh Harry looked down on the Tabulas Loquoram in his hands. 

Blank still.

He had written countless of messages on it over the last few weeks, but Draco only ever answered by wiping them off demonstratively and not writing back.

Draco Malfoy was sulking and he made sure Harry knew it.

What he had done to offend the Slytherin so, Harry did not quite know. True, he had stood him up a couple of times, but surely Draco was aware of the gruesome schedule the fifth-years were going through. Being a fifth-year himself and all.

Unfair, that's what Draco was, Harry thought miserably. He should be proud instead angry. After all Harry was doing their whole "I don't give a damn about you" thing really quite well, wasn't he? He and Draco rarely looked at each other these days and if they did, it was only to exchange their trademark "I hate your guts!" glare. They obediently traded insults on a regular basis, too. Nobody would ever know the difference.

Only Harry wasn't so sure if there still _was_ a difference to the time when they were _real_ enemies.

Because today Draco had really gone too far.

* * *

Draco settled down on the velvet couch in front of the fireplace. 

'Feels like I haven't been here in ages,' he commented, looking around his godfather's living room. Severus poured them both a cup of tea before he sat down on the armchair to Draco's left.

'I know,' he smiled. 'Feels like we haven't talked in ages, too, doesn't it?'

Draco nodded solemnly. He picked up his teacup and cupped it with both hands.

'What's troubling you, Draco?'

The teenager smirked. 'Oh, same as always, really,' he said. 'Potter.'

'You're right, no news there,' his godfather replied dryly. 'Still, I'm surprised. In the past you would've just let your frustrations with Potter out on another Gryffindor. The name Ronald Weasley springs to mind.'

They exchanged a grin.

'But a first-year Slytherin?' Severus asked. 'What has Harry Potter done to make you stoop to that level?'

Draco smirked again. 'You think that's low?' he wanted to know. 'I insulted Harry's dead mother and Umbridge gave _him_ a got a lifelong Quidditch ban in return. How's _that_ for low?'

'Quite low,' Severus agreed. 'The twins were banned from playing ever again, too, if I'm not mistaken. Because you insulted their parents, too. Again.'

Draco waved his hand. 'Yeah, whatever. Point is, if Harry… Wait a second. You knew?'

'I'm your Head of house, what do you think?'

'Hmpfh,' Draco said. 'And you can read minds. Let's not forget to mention that.'

Severus merely smiled. Rather smugly, Draco thought.

Then Severus said: 'You haven't answered my question, though. What has Harry done to make you so angry?'

'Uncle Sev,' Draco replied slowly, setting his cup back on the table. 'You know I've disobeyed my father, don't you? You know that Harry and I became friends? That we _stayed_ friends even after we returned to Hogwarts after the holidays, I mean?'

Severus nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. 'I know,' he said simply.

'At first Harry was upset that we have to keep our friendship a secret,' Draco told him. 'In fact I thought he simply didn't understand why we had to do it, but then he told me that he did. Only he could not and did not want to do it, pretend to still hate me when we're friends now. He mentioned you, too, by the way.'

'Did he?'

Draco nodded. 'Said he couldn't pretend to loathe you when he didn't. He knew he had to, but he just couldn't do it.'

Severus didn't look surprised. 'Gryffindors, huh?' he smiled almost sadly.

Draco snorted. 'Yeah,' he agreed. 'Noble fools, all of them. Well, eventually Harry agreed to still "hate" us in public. He-'

'I'm proud of you, Draco,' his godfather suddenly interrupted him. 'Very proud. Have I ever told you that?'

'Not in a while actually,' said Draco, surprised. 'But … thanks,' he blushed a little before continuing, 'Erm … anyway, so we hung out privately. Secretly. Usually at night.'

He looked at his godfather, who was his Head of house after all, sheepishly. Severus cleared his throat, but he looked amused rather than angry. 'I see,' was all he said.

'Then I showed him the Garden,' Draco went on. 'And after that Harry seemed to avoid me.'

'The Garden?' asked Severus slowly. 'Are we talking about your father's garden here?'

Draco nodded.

'So it still exists,' Severus said thoughtfully. 'I didn't know.'

He looked at Draco. 'And I didn't know that you knew about it either.'

Draco features flickered as though they didn't quite know how to arrange themselves. Was he to look smug or sheepish?

'I don't, officially,' he said. 'Or rather, I do. But I haven't found it yet. Officially.'

Severus frowned in confusion and Draco's features settled for an amused smugness at last.

'My father told me about it after my first year at Hogwarts. But to find it, I was on my own. One of his tests, I assume. I searched and searched until I knew every nook and cranny of Hogwarts. How close I came to stumbling into the Chamber of Secrets, I dare not think of.'

Draco shuddered (as did Severus), but at the same time managed to look highly offended that Potter had beat him to finding said chamber.

'At the end of the third year,' Draco went on, 'I finally found the entrance to my father's garden. At least I assumed it was the entrance for I couldn't open it. I asked him, but again he only smiled and said I had to find out myself.'

'Which eventually you did,' Severus concluded.

'Which eventually I did,' Draco echoed proudly. 'I never told dad, though I don't know why. Maybe because I wanted to have a secret of my own. Anyway, when I trusted Potter enough – and when we ran out of hiding places – I brought him with me. He wasn't too impressed, though.'

'You told him the Garden was your father's handiwork, I presume?'

'Of course!' Draco said. 'And why not? Modesty is for Hufflepuffs.'

Severus couldn't argue with that. 'True,' he laughed. 'But you can't blame Harry for being wary, Draco. He knows your father as a Death Eater only. He knows your father as one of the Dark Lord's most faithful servants.'

'MY FATHER IS NOBODY'S SERVANT!' Draco protested aggressively.

'Oh, I know,' Severus said calmly. 'Harry Potter and Lord Voldemort, however, do not.'

'Well, it doesn't matter anymore anyway, does it?' Draco asked, unconvincingly forcing his voice up into a cheerful octave. 'It's not like Potter is still going to want to be my friend after today's Quidditch match.'

He sighed shakily and rested his chin on his hands. And suddenly, to Severus's utmost surprise, he began to cry.

'I've messed up, Uncle Sev. I think I've really messed up this time,' he sobbed quietly, burying his face in his hands. 'I'm so afraid. What if I have changed the future by being such an idiot?'

In an instant Severus was on his feet. 'What did you just say?' he asked more sharply than he intended to, which apparently surprised Draco so much that he forgot to cry. 'I said I'm afraid to have changed the future,' he repeated, sniffling softly.

Severus sat down on the couch next to the younger Slytherin. 'That's quite an odd thing to say, isn't it?' he asked, looking at Draco intently.

Draco swallowed. 'You think that's odd?' he asked, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. 'What if I told you I've met a future version of Harry Potter?'

And finally Draco told his godfather all about how a grown-up Harry had appeared out of thin air during his mother's birthday party a few months ago, playing on the Malfoy's piano like it was the most normal thing in the world.

'How's _that_ for odd?' he asked in the end.

'Quite odd.' Severus confirmed. 'For I thought the privilege of seeing a future Harry Potter was solely mine.'

Draco gawked at him.

'You … what … you …. _HUH_?' he spluttered eloquently.

Severus nodded, smiling slightly. 'He's appeared to me, too. Several times. I had no idea that I wasn't the only one.'

Draco thought he looked almost sad.

'What is it with you two?' he asked, frowning slightly. 'You and Potter! What's going on between the two of you? For years you were all but eating him alive and suddenly he comes and _lives_ with you! And mum said you were going to be his miracle! She won't tell me what she meant by it, only that I'll know soon enough.'

'And she's right,' Severus said solemnly. He put a hand on Draco's shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. 'You _will_ know soon enough. But for now you must promise me something.'

'And what's that?'

'It's very important that you'll never tell anyone else about Harry's time travels. _Especially_ not Harry himself. He's not able to travel back into time yet and I don't know when he will be. But until then, until he tells you himself, don't _ever_ mention to Harry that you've met his future self or that you might know things about his future that he doesn't.'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Tempting as it might be to boast,' he sighed, 'you have nothing to worry about. I promise. It's not like anyone would believe me anyway, is it? Least of all Potter himself. Kid's a real _muggle_ sometimes, for crying out loud.'

Severus nodded amusedly. Then he asked: 'Just out of curiosity … the day of your mother's party, was that the only time you've ever talked to _Future Harry_?'

Draco shook his head. 'No,' he said. 'I believe that was the second time.'

_**To be continued**_


	22. A Christmas Miracle, Part I

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**

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

* * *

Chapter 22  
**"A Christmas Miracle"  
Part I**

**December 23, 1995**

Everything about the Malfoy Estate seemed superior. The grass was greener, the trees taller, the flowers prettier, the marble smoother, the house cleaner – everything seemed instilled with aristocracy.  
Of course the only thing his best friends' home was instilled with was a great deal of magic – which didn't stop you from feeling intimidated by the Malfoy Estate sometimes – and it was only because Severus knew how much love and warmth those superior black brick walls protected, that his steps didn't slow down as he approached the dark fortress in front of him.

Severus stopped in front of the Malfoy's front door. On eye level a brass knocker was placed in the middle of each of the double doors: An oval handle underneath a triangle in front of which a small dragon was baring his fangs rather menacingly.

The Malfoy family seal.

A tense smile appeared on his lips as Severus reached out for the handle right in front of him. 'Time to jumpstart your future, Mister Potter,' he said under his breath. 'Wish me luck.'

He rapped the brass knocker against the door three times. Seconds later the door opened and a small house-elf beamed up at him. 'Professor Potions Master, sir!' he greeted, a small Santa's hat bobbing enthusiastically between his pointy ears. 'Merry Christmas! Come in, please, sir, Professor Potions Master!'

Severus had long stopped bothering to remind the elf that calling him either 'Professor' or 'sir' would be sufficient. Half wishing his students would show as much respect as the elf, he returned the greeting. 'Merry Christmas, Miko! Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy are in the lounge, I assume?'

'In the dining room, Professor Potions Master, sir,' the house-elf corrected. 'The Mistress … she _cooked_, Professor …'

The memory of said event seemed to have robbed Miko of his energy to label Severus with as many titles as possible. And Severus couldn't blame him, for 'Oh!' was all he managed to say himself. He took off his coat, folded it and handed it to the elf.

'Good thing I already ate,' he whispered. Miko giggled and promptly, before Severus could hold him back, ran face first into the nearest wall. 'Miko bad,' he panted, banging his head against the wall. 'Miko not to laugh at my Mistress. Miko. Really. Naughty.'

Severus grabbed the frantic elf by the collar and pulled him away from the wall. 'You were not laughing _at_ Mrs. Malfoy, you were laughing _with_ me,' he corrected. 'Because that was the polite thing to do. And your Mistress likes you to show your good manners, doesn't she?'

Miko stopped struggling. 'Yes, she does, my Mistress,' he agreed eagerly. 'She likes her Miko to be polite. Thank you Master Potions Professor, sir.'

Severus released the elf. 'My pleasure. You may leave now, Miko, I know the way.'

Miko bowed gratefully a couple of times before vanishing with a small pop. As soon as the elf disappeared, a beautiful blonde woman appeared in the doorway with a hand on her hip.

'I heard all of that, Severus Tobias Snape!' she said, wriggling an index finger in front of her face.

Severus had the decency to look guilty.

For half a second.

Then, grinning broadly, he opened his arms. 'Narcissa, my love. You know that I would have married you myself, had that large blonde dolt you call your husband not beat me to it. You are, after all, a woman with many qualities …'

Narcissa Malfoy laughed as she stepped into Severus's embrace. 'But cooking is not one of them, I know! Well, you will be pleased to hear that my "large blond dolt of a husband" has seen to the food while he thought me not looking. Fascinating what magic can do to a meal, really.'

'And yet she cannot resist trying to cook without it,' somebody said from behind her. Severus and Narcissa broke apart to look at Lucius Malfoy, who was leaning against the doorframe casually, an amused smirk tugging at his lips. Then he straightened up and walked towards them.

'Merry Christmas, old friend,' he greeted before pulling Severus into a hug. 'It's good to see you.'

'Good to see you, too,' Severus agreed. He followed his friends into the dining room, where a magnificent table was set and waiting for them. The smell of the food was intoxicating.

Severus winked at Narcissa. 'Good thing I didn't eat too much before coming here,' he said, sitting down on his usual chair. The Malfoys followed suit.

'What brings you here, my friend?' Lucius asked, pouring them all a glass of wine. 'It must be something urgent otherwise you would've waited for our Christmas dinner tomorrow.'

'It _is_ rather urgent, I'm afraid.'

'What is it, Sev?' Narcissa asked promptly, putting a hand on his and looking worried.

Severus shook his head. 'Don't worry, 'Cis,' he said comfortingly. 'It's nothing quite so bad. But I've been holding off this talk for very long and now it seems that it cannot wait another day.'

He looked at Lucius, who calmly returned his gaze. 'Is this about Harry Potter?' the Blonde asked.

Severus nodded.

'Go on,' Lucius and Narcissa urged simultaneously.

'Do you remember when I tried to talk to you about Harry that day Draco came to ask you to look out for Harry at the Ministry?' Severus asked. His friends nodded wordlessly.

'Well,' Severus said, taking a big gulp from his wine glass. 'Let's try again, shall we?'

However, for the longest time that was all he could say, overwhelmed by the invisible task in front of him. 'Oh, where to start?' he finally asked no one in particular, rubbing a hand over his face. Then, he took a deep breath and began to talk.

'As you know, not long ago the Dark Lord managed to possess a snake and attack Arthur Weasley. The man would have died a most gruesome death if Harry had not witnessed everything and called for help just in time.'

Narcissa's hand flew up to her throat. 'W-witnessed?' she croaked.

Lucius Malfoy said nothing.

Severus looked at him. 'Yes, witnessed,' he said. 'Harry saw the attack in his sleep. In fact he was inside the serpent when it happened. Inside the Dark Lord's mind. Lord Voldemort is getting stronger every day and unfortunately so does his connection with my mate. Even more unfortunate is the fact that the Dark Lord has become aware of this connection. It's only a matter of time until he will manage to break the boy's mind and then … Merlin help us all.'

'But you can teach him Occlumency, right?' Narcissa asked.

'I will,' Severus nodded. 'As soon as possible.'

Lucius Malfoy still didn't say anything, but Severus knew that he was waiting for him to get to the gist of the matter. And so he did.

'Harry found out about his connection to the Dark Lord soon enough, of course. As you can imagine he's very confused about it and terribly ashamed.'

One of Severus's hands curled into an angry fist.

'And of course none of those imbeciles around him managed to make him feel any better. Dumbledore, McGonagall, the Weasleys … they all let him go, when Harry insisted that he wanted to spend this Christmas with his _family_.'

He spat out the last word with much contempt. His other hand curled, too.

'That's a whole lot of dung, however. He only didn't want to _inflict_ his presence on the wizards around him, that's all. Now, you may recall that the people Harry calls _family_ are muggles of the worst kind. To this day they treat him falsely, cruelly and unkind. It's about time the boy gets a new family! Obviously, _I_ intend to be that family one day. However, I can't be a mother, a father and his soulmate at the same time.'

He took a deep breath and looked at Lucius and Narcissa. 'And this, my friends, is where you come into play.'

'You think _we_ can be a family for Harry, Severus?' Lucius asked, not exactly surprised but disbelieving all the same.

Severus nodded. 'Not only do I _think_ you can be a family for Harry, Lucius, I happen to know for a fact that you will be.'

These words were greeted by a long pause.

'With all due respect, Severus, but you must be out of your mind!' Lucius Malfoy said finally. 'Even _if_ we agreed to take the boy in, he would never come willingly. Suggest it to him and he'd run away screaming for Aurors, I'm telling you, and you would never see him again.'

Severus smiled. 'Oh, but I would. You know that as well as I do.'

Lucius got up from his chair. He stepped in front of one of the large windows and looked outside. 'And what, pray tell, makes you so sure we could ever be a family for your mate?' he asked with his back turned towards Severus and his wife. 'Why us?'

'I'm sure you remember how I told you about the day I found a future version of Harry in my bathroom, don't you?' Severus asked.

'I do.'

'This future Harry showed me things that day. His memories. Memories that will soon become Harry's future. My future. And apparently … yours, too.'

Lucius turned around. 'What memories?' he asked stiffly.

'All sorts of things! Narcissa and Harry hugging each other, for example. Or you, Draco and Harry playing around outside. When Harry realized that he had traveled back into time and that I wasn't who he thought I was, he panicked. He regretted showing me those things and kept begging me not to take his family away from him. I didn't truly comprehend it at that time. I merely assumed that, being his soulmate, I would be that family one dayand that he was afraid of losing me and Priya. I assumed that you were merely good friends to him.'

'What changed your mind?'

Severus thought about Draco's recent revelation or about his own vision of the blazing pyre, in which Narcissa had referred to his mate as her son and said: 'A couple of things actually, a few of which I can't talk to you about yet. But what I can tell you is that Harry's future self has turned up a few more times now. The last time I saw him, I noticed a small pendant around his neck. It was the Malfoy family seal.'

That information prompted Lucius to sit back down.

'The dragon?' he asked. 'Are you sure about this?'

'Absolutely,' Severus confirmed. 'There's no doubt about it.'

'Maybe our son gave it to him while Potter was lodging at Snape Manor,' Lucius suggested. 'Maybe Harry stole it.'

'Lucius!' Severus warned. 'You know that's nonsense. Unless one of you is going to marry Harry and therefore make him a legitimate member of the Malfoy family clan, which I happen to know for a fact that you won't, there is no other possibility. Harry will be your son.'

'Has this "Future Harry" ever told you this himself?'

'No, he hasn't,' Severus admitted. 'Whenever I try to talk about the future, he blocks. Of course he lets things slip occasionally, but usually he's too terrified that the future he returns to will have changed because of a mistake he's made during his time travels.'

'Very well,' Lucius said. 'But you cannot possibly expect me to risk the life I have built because of some ... hunch. Or because some orphan – no offence – that could be possessed by none other than the Dark Lord himself at any possible moment needs a new family. You can't be serious!'

Severus nodded. 'I understand how this must sound to you. But Voldemort's time is limited. Again, this is something that Harry's future self absolutely refuses to talk about, but I know that he will defeat Riddle. And soon, too, if my calculations are correct. It's time for you to choose a side, Lucius.'

'I _know _my side, Severus!' Lucius said coldly.

Severus looked at him calmly. 'Do you?'

'You can't ask me to adopt James Potter's son, Sev!'

'I'm not asking you to adopt him!' Severus replied, swallowing down a 'just yet'.

'Then what _are_ you asking of us?'

'All I'm asking is for you to meet Harry, to get to know him and give him an opportunity to get to know you,' Severus said. 'I had the chance to meet a Harry Potter that has grown into a wonderful, confident and content young man, Lucius. A far cry from the nervous, little boy who was raised in a cupboard. As much as I would like to believe that this will solely be my doing, I have a feeling that it won't. It will be yours, too.'

'You are trying to manipulate me, Snape!' Lucius said accusingly.

'Is it working?'

Lucius shook his head. 'I'm sorry, my friend. I can't stop you from taking care of this kid, but I will not endanger my family for James Potters' offspring.'

'With all due respect, darling!' Narcissa suddenly said and only then did the two men realize that she hadn't spoken at all during Severus's proposal. 'I believe this is something that concerns _everyone_ in this family and therefore I have a say in this matter, too, don't I?'

'Of course you do, 'Cis,' Lucius frowned. 'But I thought I was speaking for everyone, when-'

'You were not,' Narcissa said simply.

At Lucius's stunned expression, she smiled gently and took one of his hands in hers. 'All Severus is asking of us is to meet his future husband. He's our best friend and after all he's done for this family, it's a matter of course that we _happily_ agree to do so.'

She raised her voice when Lucius opened his mouth in an attempt to argue: 'Furthermore, I think it's about time you let go of your grudge against James Potter, Lucius. Yes, he made mistakes! Yes, he treated Severus falsely! Yes, he was an arrogant brat! But we all were, Lucius, we were teenagers! Do I need to remind you that many years ago, had I not given _you_ a chance, this family would not exist today? Don't you think Harry has suffered enough for the mistakes that _others_ have made in the past? Don't you think _Draco_ has suffered enough for the mistakes _you_ have made?'

Lucius seemed to have lost the ability to speak.

And so Narcissa continued softly: 'Both, our son and our best friend think that Harry Potter should be a part of this family and, by Merlin's beard, I believe them.'

* * *

**December 24, 1995**

The Christmas tree was bending underneath the weight of too many, too large and too colorful ornaments and heaps of equally colorful tinsel. Harry cringed whenever he looked at it, wistfully remembering the beautifully decorated trees at Hogwarts. However, Harry knew that the problem with the Dursley's tree wasn't that the Dursleys were lacking the magic, it was that they were lacking the taste.

As if to prove Harry's point Dudley came galloping inside (the glass windows of the kitchen cabinets shook violently), punched Harry in the shoulder and waltzed past him into the living room, stopping in front of the ugly Christmas tree. He bent over (Harry winced and quickly turned his attention back to the dinner he was preparing – Dudley's backside threatening to break out of the confinement of a pair of brown corduroys was _not_ a sight to behold.) and began counting the many presents underneath the tree.

'FIFTEEN?' Dudley finally hollered after a significant amount of time had passed. 'THERE ARE STILL ONLY FIFTEEN PRESENTS FOR ME UNDERNEATH THE TREE? YOU SAID I WOULD GET MORE THIS YEAR!'

Harry rolled his eyes and lowered the temperature of the oven.

Petunia Dursley, who was sitting on the couch watching TV, quickly defended herself. 'But Dudley, darling, these are not all your presents yet, of course,' she cooed. 'Santa will bring the rest while you're asleep tonight!'

'WHY ARE THEY NOT UNDER THE TREE YET?'

'Because they are supposed to be a surprise, Duddikins!'

'I WANT THEM UNDER THE TREE NOW!'

Uncle Vernon chortled. 'Petunia, dear, put them underneath the tree. You can't blame our Dudders for wanting to impress my new bosses' son. After all, it's the first impression that counts, right Dudley?'

Harry made a soft retching noise.

'DID YOU SAY SOMETHING BOY?'

Harry coughed. 'Nope.'

'Hm,' Vernon grunted. Then: 'IS DINNER READY YET?'

'Almost,' Harry sighed.

'Well, hurry up boy!' Petunia snapped, slapping him over the head as she walked past Harry to get Dudley's others presents. 'The Carlisles will be here any minute!'

'Yes, Aunt Petunia!' Harry said obediently, silently counting to ten in order to stop himself from screaming. What on earth had gotten into him to voluntarily return to Privet Drive for Christmas?

_Voldemort, that's what's gotten into you, Potter._

Bitterly Harry picked up a sponge and began scrubbing the sink. A movement outside the kitchen window caught his eyes. Harry squinted into the darkness, but saw nothing unusual.

Shrugging, Harry turned around to look through the oven window. Satisfied with what he found inside, he turned off the heat, pulled on some kitchen gloves and opened the oven door. Hot air emerged and Harry had to wipe his glasses before he could pull out the roast beef. Careful not to trip, he carried the large, heavy dish over to the table. Potatoes and vegetables followed. After he had uncorked a bottle of wine, Harry announced: 'Dinner is served.'

'About time,' Uncle Vernon grumbled. He put aside his newspaper, stood up from the couch and inspected the table. When he found nothing to criticize he said: 'And now vanish, I don't want the Carlisles to see or hear anything from you, is that clear?'

'Clear,' Harry murmured. 'I'll be upstairs if you need me.'

He turned to leave but Vernon held him back.

'Not upstairs, boy. It's the cupboard for you today.'

'WHAT?'

Uncle Vernon smirked. 'Well, the boys need a room to play, don't they?'

'Yeah, well, and what's wrong with Dudley's room?' Harry snapped.

'Too small! Besides, you weren't supposed to be home for Christmas at all, so stop being so ungrateful.'

The doorbell rang.

'CUPBOARD, BOY! BEFORE I LOSE MYSELF!'

Fuming and humiliated Harry opened the door to the cupboard underneath the stairs and climbed inside. He scrambled over a vacuum cleaner and sat down on a box with old Christmas decorations.

'_Merry Christmas, Potter!'_ he thought angrily.

As he sat in the dark, Harry listened as Uncle Vernon opened the front door, but it took him a few moments to process the words that were spoken next.

'WHO ARE YOU?'

'That's none of your business, _muggle_,' a low, sneering voice said.

Suddenly Harry wanted to cry.

'YOU ARE ONE OF THEM! ONE OF THOSE FR-'

'Careful, Dursley, before _I_ lose myself. And now step aside.'

'I WILL NOT!'

'Really?'

A loud thud made Harry jump. The thin wall next to him vibrated.

'UFF!' Uncle Vernon gasped.

'Thank you,' the cold voice said.

Unable to move, Harry sat and listened to the calm, even steps of someone crossing the narrow hallway outside his hiding place. A few seconds later the cupboard was being opened and Harry blinked at the sudden incidence of light.

A tall, dark figure ducked his head into the small cupboard.

'Merry Christmas, Potter!'

'Professor Snape!' Harry found his throat was too tight for anything else.

Severus Snape reached out a hand, offering to pull him up.

Harry took it.

'Let's go home,' the Potions master said.

_**To be continued**_


	23. A Christmas Miracle, Part II

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

* * *

Chapter 23  
**"A Christmas Miracle"  
Part II**

The moment Severus and Harry stepped onto the Dursleys' front lawn, it began to snow. Harry stopped and looked up into the dark, star-sprinkled sky, a small smile forming on his face as the first snowflakes began to melt on his skin.

'I can't come with you, Professor!' he said to the firmament.

Overcome with sadness that wasn't his own, Severus bit back a stroppy reply along the lines of _'Nonsense, Potter, get a move on!'_ (The urge to leave this dreadful place behind as soon as possible was hard to fight) and instead asked: 'And why's that, Potter?'

Harry tore his eyes from the stars and looked at his Potions master.

'I just can't. I'm … needed here.'

It was a pathetic excuse and Harry knew it. He quickly looked away again, inspecting his sneakers rather interestedly. Severus stepped closer, placed a bent index finger underneath Harry's chin and lifted the boy's face, forcing Harry to meet his eyes. 'You mean you can't come with me because the Dursleys need a slave or because you want to protect me from the Dark Lord?' he asked.

Harry eyes widened in surprise. It might have been shock, too.

Was he that predictable?

Severus dropped his hand. He could tell that the boy was frantically searching for a better excuse, a harmless explanation for not wanting to come with him when in reality it was what Harry wanted most, but then the Gryffindor simply settled for honesty: 'I want to protect you from _me_.'

The words hit Severus like a ton of bricks, but unlike Harry he didn't let his face show it. 'That's sweet, Potter, but you're hardly a match,' he smirked instead. And with that he put a hand on Harry's back and tried to push him along, but Harry stood his ground – and quite literally so.

'NO!' he said firmly, pressing his weight against the teacher's hand so stubbornly that he probably would have stumbled and fallen backwards had Severus let go of him now.

'_I'm possessed by Voldemort! And if he realises that I live in your house but that you won't turn me over to him, he's going to Crucio you again or much worse than that, because you're not supposed to care for me and I'm not even supposed to like you, but I do and I can't let him hurt you and so I'm not coming with you, period, and you can't make me,'_ he blurted out with spitfire speed, stopping only when he ran out of breath.

The words seemed to linger between them as they stared at each other.

Harry was breathing heavily, puffing misty orbs of heat into the glacial darkness. The air around him was charged now and Severus could practically _hear_ the teenager's magical energy cackling. And for the first time, it seemed to Severus that he could truly acknowledge that the Sorting Hat had made Harry a Gryffindor for traits other than their trademark "speak-before-you-think-and-don't-think-before-you-act" bravery.

Harry was determined to spend his holidays – and the Christmas holidays at that – at Privet Drive even though he knew he would be mistreated and miserable, if only that meant he could protect the people he loved from harm. But what impressed Severus even more was that Harry was even willing to risk embarrassment and humiliation by confessing to his grumpy, old Potions master (who, in the past, had rarely passed on a chance to humiliate him) that he cared about him and didn't want him to get hurt, if only it ensured that he could stay right where he was.

How very Gryffindor indeed.

But although Harry had just – for the first time – openly acknowledged to Severus that he liked him, the Slytherin knew he would have to choose his next words carefully.

_Our future depends on it._

'I'm not sure what you've heard or what you _think_ to know about your _condition_, but you – Harry James Potter – are NOT possessed by anyone,' he said slowly. 'Yes, there _is_ a connection between you and the Dark Lord, but you are not him nor are you anything _like_ him. You can merely read each other's thoughts or feel each other's emotions sometimes and as unpleasant as that must be, I can teach you how to close your mind against him. I will teach you Occlumency, Potter, but I'd prefer to do so at Snape Manor instead of on these dreadful muggles' front lawn, if you please.'

His monologue was greeted by silence. However, Severus was glad to notice that the teenager had calmed down significantly and didn't seem quite as set on staying as he had only a minute before.

'Occlu-what?' said Harry at last.

Severus grinned. 'How about I tell you over some roast turkey, Potter?'

'But what if Voldemort finds out?' Harry asked desperately. 'And what if he reads my thoughts while I'm…'

He clamped his mouth shut just in time, but the words _'…thinking about just how much I like you…'_ travelled into Severus's conscience loud and clear. And suddenly he realized that the task of teaching Harry Potter Occlumency would be a difficult one - even if they weren't connected by a soulmate bond. The boy was an open book.

'…with you?' Harry finished his sentence now.

'As your teacher, Mister Potter, that is a risk I'm putting up with for quite some time now,' Severus replied curtly. Harry's mouth fell open and the older man cursed himself.

_Gentle as a troll, Severus. Way to go._

'Have you ever been hurt because of me, Professor?' Harry asked bluntly.

Severus stifled an aggravated sigh with difficulty. Next time his _husband_ decided to do a little midnight stroll in the past, he would strangle him, Severus decided, oh yes he would, for having made his life so complicated today.

'For Merlin's sake, Potter, can't we just leave?' he barked. 'My wand's about to freeze solid!'

Harry's eyes widened for a split second before they lit up significantly. He quickly bit his lips in what seemed to be an attempt to hold back a rather cheeky grin, but it didn't take long before a small snort of laughter escaped his throat.

Severus raised his eyebrows in silent amusement and his upper lip curled in a manner that clearly said: _'My, that dirty little mind of yours, Potter!' _

'I will come with you only if you give me an honest answer, sir,' Harry said now and despite the renewed small giggle that followed his announcement with some delay, Severus knew Harry meant it. He demanded an answer.

'If you really _must_ know, the answer is yes, Potter,' he said shortly. 'Now can we go?'

At once every bit of mischief that had glinted in Harry's eyes only a few seconds ago was gone and left him looking as though he would have liked nothing better than to run back inside, lock himself in his cupboard and cry like there was no tomorrow. But Harry stood by his word.

'Okay,' he whispered gloomily.

Severus nodded curtly. 'Good.'

He pulled out his wand and swished it once. A small horse carriage seemed to appear out of thin air (although Harry suspected it had been there all along) on the other side of the Dursleys' fence. The carriage wasn't pulled by a common horse, however. A thestral stood in front of it, pawing his hooves in the thin layer of snow. Severus walked towards the carriage, motioning for Harry to follow him.

'Are we not Apparating?' Harry asked.

Severus smirked. 'Since your last Apparition almost gave you a heart attack, Potter, I thought you'd like to travel a little more comfortably today.'

'I wouldn't mind,' Harry admitted, climbing inside the carriage and sitting down. Severus sat down beside him.

'Off we go, then,' he said … and the thestral took off.

* * *

He was dreaming.

Yes, that was it. Harry was sure of it. He had fallen asleep in his cupboard while the Dursleys were having their Christmas dinner with the Carlisles. Only in his dream had Professor Snape rescued him from the cupboard. Only in his dream had he confessed to his Potions teacher that he liked him. Only in his dream was he standing on Snape's veranda now. Only in his dream was Priya holding him in a tight embrace and kissing him heartily on both cheeks. And only in his dream did he hear Professor Snape asking how he would like to spend Christmas Eve with the Malfoys.

**WHAT!**

Harry let go of Priya and turned around to look at his teacher. To gape at him.

'Excuse me, sir, what did you just say?' he repeated slowly. A smile started tugging on his Potions master's lips and Harry almost sighed with relief. Snape was joking.

_Oh, yeah, ha ha, very funny._

'It's a family tradition,' said Severus now. 'Every Christmas Evening Priya and I are going over to the Malfoys and have dinner together. And Draco and his parents would be very pleased if you would join us this year. Don't worry, though, you'll be spared Mrs. Malfoy's cooking – something you'll learn to be thankful for soon enough, I'm sure. The Christmas dinner is solely Priya's deed, ever gracious Merlin!'

Priya smiled. 'You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Severus Tobias,' she scolded affectionately.

Severus shook his head. 'See that?' he asked Harry. 'This is what you get for complimenting women in this house, Potter,' he said in mock irritation. 'You better remember to not say anything nice about the roast turkey to Priya later tonight. As you can see, she doesn't take it too well.'

Harry grinned uncertainly, still unsure if the Potions teacher was pulling his leg or not.

_Christmas dinner with the Malfoys. Really now!_

Behind Harry, Priya reached out above his head and swatted Severus on his upper arm not so lightly. 'Narcissa has improved greatly, you ignorant man!' she said. 'As you and Lucius would very well know if you would only ever bother to try something she has cooked.'

_Narcissa? Lucius? As in Narcissa and Lucius MALFOY?_

'Excuse me,' Harry said timidly, looking back and forth between Priya and his teacher. 'You … you are not joking, then? You seriously want me to … but you can't be …'

Priya put a gentle hand on his shoulder. 'Let's go inside,' she said and Harry let himself be steered into the house and onto to the small sofa that stood in the Entrance Hall. He didn't see the reproachful look the Indian threw Severus that said _'Really now, Sev, you could've told him a little sooner.' _He didn't see his Potions master's rather sheepish shrug of shoulders either.

Priya sat down next to him and took both of Harry's hands in hers.

'But they're Death Eaters!' he blurted out before she had a chance to say anything. 'You can't expect me to go and _socialize_ with them like nothing has ever happened. Even if Lucius Malfoy would refrain from killing me tonight, for your sake or whatever, I can't forget that he's tried before. My ability to pretend goes only so far, I'm sorry.'

He didn't sound sorry at all, Harry knew, and he wasn't. As much as he loved them, Severus and Priya must be out of their minds. Confunded!

_Christmas with the Malfoys … what a hoot! _

Severus bent over and crouched in front of him, so that he was on eye level with Harry, and put a hand on the Gryffindor's knee. The effect on Harry was immediate. Something very hot exploded in his stomach and worked its way up his chest, and Harry was certain it was only a matter of time before the heat would emerge his skin in form of a violent blush creeping up his neck.

'Lucius Malfoy tried to kill me at Little Hangleton,' he quickly continued, if only to hide his embarrassment. 'He also tried to get Ginny and me killed when he slipped her Riddle's diary or at least he couldn't have cared less. And now I'm supposed to have a civilized dinner with him and his family, Professor?'

His teacher nodded, his hand still resting calmly on Harry's knee. 'Nobody will even _think_ of harming you, not even Lucius Malfoy. You can be sure of that. But I'm not forcing you, Potter. If you really don't want to come with us, I understand. Just say so and I will stay here with you. But if you could at least give it a try, I would really appreciate it.'

He paused a moment before adding: '_Draco_ would really appreciate it. He misses you.'

Harry began chewing on his lower lip, something he often did when faced with the task of making a difficult decision. One word and he could spend Christmas Eve alone with Severus, safe and warm at Snape Manor, no Malfoys in sight. What better reason was there to say no?

Draco _missed_ him. What better reason was there to say yes?

'But his father's a Death Eater,' he repeated helplessly. What better reason was there to say no?

'Potter,' Snape replied with a tenderness that was almost startling, 'I assure you that I have not taken you out of the lions' den only to throw you into a snake pit.'

Harry frowned.

'With all due respect, Professor Snape, but that's _exactly_ what you're doing,' he retorted with half a smile. 'You're a Slytherin and so are all the Malfoys. That makes me the lion and you the serpents in your little analogy, doesn't it?'

For a second Severus looked rather surprised. Then he grinned. 'I never thought I would live to say it, but you're right, insufferable Gryffindor. I realize my _little analogy _was not quite so fitting. However, _you_,' he aimed one index finger at Harry before poking it in his rips. Harry squirmed, laughing, 'are hardly a lion, Potter. A cub, maybe, if anything.'

Harry grinned back at him. 'Ha ha,' he said, rolling his eyes demonstratively.

Then he paused.

It was amazing how right all of this felt. To be back at Snape Manor, Severus Snape's hand on his knee, to sit here with Priya, Severus Snape's hand on his knee, the teasing …

_And did I mention Severus Snape's hand on my knee?_

He trusted Snape. Harry still didn't understand _why_ he trusted the man so implicitly these days, but he did. The moment he had recognized Snape's voice at the Dursleys' front door, he had felt as though an invisible weight had been lifted off his shoulders – and off his heart, too. He felt safe with the Potions master. If Severus was certain that it was okay to bring Harry to Snape Manor despite the fact that he didn't know this _Occlu_-thing yet, then it would be. If Severus was certain that Harry would be safe among the Malfoys, then Harry would be.

It was as simple as that.

_Not to mention that he has his hand on my knee and could ask me to kiss a Dementor right now and I would do it. Happily._

Harry sighed. 'I don't have anything to wear,' he said.

Professor Snape stood up with a smile. Harry found the sudden lack of weight on his knee to be almost painful … and sighed again.

'You will find all of your belongings in your room upstairs,' Snape informed him. 'Yulub has taken the liberty of removing them from number four, Privet Drive.'

Harry looked up at his Potions teacher quizzically. 'I repeat,' he said, 'I don't have anything to wear.'

Professor Snape's smile turned into an amused grin. 'Ah, don't be so sure of that, Potter. If I'm not mistaken somebody has left an early Christmas present for you upstairs.'

Harry jumped up. 'You?' he asked with wide eyes, but Severus shook his head. 'Don't thank _me_!' he said. 'I'm not the one in this family who's known for his dashing good looks or attire.'

It was all Harry could do not to protest vehemently and tell his teacher he looked _just_ fine, thank you very much, and he quickly looked at Priya, but the Indian shook her head as well. 'Go and see for yourself, sweetheart,' she told him with a warm smile. 'You still remember your old room, don't you?'

Harry nodded.

'Well, up you go then,' Snape commanded sternly, pointing one hand towards the staircase and waving it impatiently. 'I expect you down here in forty-five minutes, Gryffindor! Showered, combed, dressed and …,' he winked at Harry, '…in perfect Christmas cheer. Clear, Potter?'

Harry clapped his heels together and snapped his right hand to his forehead. 'Crystal!' he saluted. Then, grinning mischievously, and not without making sure that his additional salutation 'Uncle Vernon, _sir_!' was just loud enough to hear, he raced up the stairs.

'I HEARD THAT HORRIBLE INSULT, YOU UNGRATEFUL, MUGGLE-RAISED MIDGET WIZARD!' was the last thing Harry heard from downstairs before he closed the door of his guest room behind him, laughing. As soon as he turned around, something white came swooping down on him, landed on his shoulder and hooted softly.  
'Hello, Hedwig!' Harry greeted and patted his owl lovingly. His cheek was rewarded with an affectionate nibble before Hedwig took off again, flying through the open window into the starless night. Harry closed the window behind her and then looked around the familiar room he had occupied only a couple of months before, thinking he would never see it again. Contentment washed over him like the summer rain and for the second time tonight Harry felt like crying with gratitude.

But when he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror next to the wardrobe, Harry decided there was no time to cry. If he planned on resembling a reasonably decent looking human being at _some_ point tonight, forty-five minutes were barely enough time. He walked over to the foot of his bed, where his trunk stood waiting for him as promised. On the trunk, there lay a square box that was wrapped in silver paper with a dark green ribbon around it. Two small envelopes, also of silver colour, were propped against them. '_Read me first,'_ stood on one of them, _'Read me last,'_ on the other.

Eagerly, his hands trembling with excitement, Harry opened envelope number one and pulled out the small letter that was inside. He recognized the neat handwriting at once.

_Harry,_

_I have no doubt that you are,_ _at this very moment, all but bursting with glee over your invitation to a traditional Death Eaters' Christmas Dinner. And so you should be. Dining with us Malfoys is a one of a kind experience.  
No, it's not … but it undoubtedly will be once the famous Harry Potter joins our merry little group of Voldemort Lovers. Anyway, as you have surely noticed by now, we Malfoys are a bunch of devilishly good-looking Slytherins. We do not tolerate some retarded Muggle's XXL-hand-me-downs on a wizard. Not even a Gryffindor. Well, not on Christmas anyway. And since you are absolutely inept when it comes to, well, looking as good as me, I've decided to help you out a little. _

_You may open the present now._

_Yours truly,_

_Draco Malfoy_

Harry shook his head in disbelief. Trust on Draco Malfoy to turn the fact that he, Harry Potter, was about to wine and dine with Lucius Malfoy, one of Voldemort's favourite minions, into a joke. He couldn't help but laugh, however. And somehow it was exactly this kind of sarcasm, Draco's dry sense of humor, that calmed Harry and helped him lose some of his dread. Maybe wining and dining with Lucius Malfoy wouldn't be so bad after all? Miracles happened, didn't they?

Surviving the Killing Curse.

Finding out you're a wizard.

Flying on a broomstick.

Becoming best friends with Draco Malfoy.

Falling in love with your most hated teacher, head over heels …

Yes, sometimes miracles _did_ happen.

Harry sat down on the bed, took the silver package and, without further ado, began unwrapping Draco's present. Visions of hideous dress robes that would make Ron's old pair look like the latest trend, sprang up in front of his inner eye while he was doing so and it wasn't without some trepidation that he lifted the cover of the box at last. For a moment he stared at the contents inside.

'Wow, Draco!' he whispered.

A pair of black Levi's jeans lay inside, together with an emerald green dress shirt and a pair of shiny black leather shoes.

Harry smiled. '_Had_ to be Slytherin colours, hadn't they, Malfoy?'

Carefully, as if the clothes might resolve into thin air if not handled tenderly enough, Harry lifted them from the box and looked at them from all sides. All items looked brand new and expensive. Truth be told, Harry didn't care all that much about fashion; time had taught him not to. By the time Dudley was growing out or tired of his wardrobe and it was thus passed on to Harry, all things were usually stretched beyond recognition or worn thin, the colours faded. In fact Harry often suspected his cousin to be especially boisterous with his clothes, only so they wouldn't look decent anymore by the time Harry got to wear them. And although he had lately become quite self-conscious of his shabby looks (Being in love did that to you, as did being friends with the best looking, best dressed boy at Hogwarts), Harry seldomly spent his parents' gold on new clothes. Not when there were school supplies to be paid for, presents to be bought or a broomstick to be maintained … and no way of knowing how and when he would ever earn his first own money to support himself.

When the stroke of the clock announced the new hour, Harry was reminded of his original task. He tore his eyes from his new outfit and rushed into the adjoining bathroom, where he quickly showered, washed his hair (and even blow-dried it afterwards in a somewhat successful attempt to tame it) and brushed his teeth. Then he came back and rummaged through his trunk in search for some clean underwear and socks. After he had found both, he discarded his towel and dressed himself carefully. When he was done, he sceptically looked down on himself before stepping in front of the large mirror, where he inspected his reflection from all angles.

'Too small,' he commented gloomily, writhing uncomfortably in front of the mirror.

Suddenly something came zooming through the air and began pecking Harry's forehead with rapid speed. It was the second little envelope that had _'Read me last'_ written on it, obviously demanding his attention.

'Alright, alright,' Harry yelled and caught the silver envelope in his hand, where it came to rest at last. Inside was another small letter. Harry unfolded it and read:

_Believe it or not, Golden Boy, but I chose this particular combination of colours not because they are the trademark colours of my House, but only because I knew they would go well with your hair and eyes. If the Sorting Hat had any taste at all, he would have placed you in Slytherin for the exact same reason. But I digress. You probably think that your new clothes are too small. I assure you that they are not. You're wearing your own size and not that of your elephantine relatives for once. Moron._

_You can thank me later. _

_Merry Christmas!_

Harry grinned, silently agreeing that Draco probably _did_ have a point. After one last glance at his mirror image, he decided to trust the Slytherin's instincts (Draco Malfoy _was_ the best dressed boy at Hogwarts after all) and went downstairs, where Priya was already waiting, dressed in a magnificent blue Sari.

'Look at you!' she exclaimed when she saw him walking down the stairs. 'What a fine gentleman you are!'

Harry laughed, but was not at all unpleased when Priya began to fuss over him by fondly brushing his hair out of his eyes and smoothing some none-existent wrinkles on his shoulders.

'Why, you look very nice yourself, Priya,' he told her.

'Not only does he look like a gentleman, but he talks like one, too,' Priya smiled and dropped a kiss on Harry's forehead.

Behind them somebody cleared his throat.

Harry looked around and found Severus Snape standing behind them. The dark-haired man had exchanged his heavy robes for a silky black shirt that hung casually over a dark pair of pants. The jagged collar was hugging his neck snugly and some very fine, slightly shimmering, ornamentals were engraved across his chest. Harry strongly suspected it to be an Indian outfit and, not without a smile, he wondered if Priya had chosen it for his teacher.

Either way, Professor Snape looked drop dead gorgeous.

'Here for _five_ minutes and already he's turning heads again,' Snape teased now. 'If you think charming the ladies at Snape Manor will get you anywhere with me during your OWL exams, Potter, you better think again.'

'And how far will it get me to charm _you_?' Harry blurted out. Then, surprised by his own courage but not to be intimidated by it, he added: 'Because you _do_ look very nice as well, I must say, Professor.'

'_There!_' Harry thought. Better to say it like it was than to gape at the man.

Or drool.

Or gape _and_ drool.

Harry's frankness seemed to catch Snape off-guard and he laughed out loud (Harry resisted the urge to throw himself at his teachers' feet in worship at the sound). 'Careful, Potter,' he smirked, pointing a warning index finger at Harry, 'or Dolores Umbridge will have to do your OWL evaluation, because I'll be too biased to be neutral with you.'

Priya smiled, but Harry looked unimpressed.

'Right!' he deadpanned. 'Because you're famous for always being neutral, sir. Especially with me.'

'As neutral as Switzerland,' Severus confirmed loftily and Harry laughed.

Suddenly Snape looked around as though he was searching for something. But then he merely smiled at Priya and went over to the wardrobe, took Harry's jacket from one of the hangers and handed it to the Gryffindor. After that he helped Priya into a coat before getting into his own.

'Ready?' he asked - rather loudly, Harry thought. 'Then _LET'S GO, EVERYONE!_'

Severus opened the front door and waited for Priya and Harry to walk past him. Then he stepped out onto the veranda after them and was _just_ about to close the door, when something small and red darted out of the house and zoomed past his legs.

It was Yulub, the Professor's house-elf. The small elf, who was dressed in a tiny, pretty red dress, stopped, bent over with her hands on her knees and gasped for breath. Harry saw Priya and his teacher exchange an amused smile and wink.

'Hello, Master Harry!' Yulub panted.

'Hello Yulub!' Harry greeted.

'I'm ready, Master Severus,' Yulub gasped. 'I'm ready now.'

Severus lifted one hand to pointedly look at his watch. 'And _just_ on time, too,' he said sternly, but then his face broke into a warm smile. He lifted the little elf up and hoisted her above his head, so that she was sitting on his shoulders. 'Shall we go, then?' he asked her. 'We don't want to keep Miko waiting, do we?'

Yulub's only answer was a delighted giggle as she beamed at the horizon ahead of her.

'Who's Miko?' Harry asked, hurrying to keep up with Priya and his teacher, who were now crossing the garden and walking towards that dreadfully long flight of stairs, which lead to a small patch of wood and the lake Draco had almost "drowned in" during the summer holidays.

'Miko is the Malfoys' house-elf,' Priya explained.

'Oh,' was all Harry could think of saying while he remembered Dobby, the Malfoys' last house-elf, that he had tricked Lucius into setting free.

'Are we walking, then?' he asked next as they began traipsing down the stairs. Priya was behind Harry and Snape walked in front of him, with Yulub bobbing happily on his shoulders.

'Surprised by the lack of magic, Potter?' he called out.

Harry made an affirmative noise.

'It's a tradition,' Severus told him. 'Every year we walk over to the Malfoys, have dinner together and in the next morning they walk over to us, where we exchange our Christmas gifts.'

'You and the Malfoys are really good friends, aren't you?'

Severus stopped and waited until Harry was next to him before they continued to walk down the stairs side by side. 'Yes, Potter,' he said and Harry felt his teacher's eyes on him. 'Lucius and his wife are my oldest and closest friends. I love Draco like my own son. In fact, they are as much my family as Priya and Yulub are.'

These words did not come as a surprise. Harry had suspected that their Potions master's connection to the Malfoy Clan was far more intimate than Snape and Draco ever let on at school, ever since he had seen with his own eyes just how attached Draco was to Severus and Priya and how he always walked about Snape Manor as though it was his own home.

'Professor?' Harry asked.

'Potter?'

'I hope you don't mind me asking, but … what about your real family? Your parents?'

As soon as he had asked this question, sadness welled up inside of Harry, so powerful that his heart could not contain it for long and his eyes began to fill with tears. Confused, he blinked them away and glanced sideways at his teacher.

Snape's mouth had turned into a thin line. 'This is my real family, Potter,' he said shortly. 'My parents are dead.'

Harry's tears readily spilled over now. Inundated by a whirlwind of emotions - sadness, anger, resignation, resentment, grief - that he could neither locate nor explain, Harry decided to blame his tears on the cold December wind and quickly wiped his face.

'I'm sorry,' he said.

'I know,' Snape replied softly. He released one of Yulub's tiny ankles and placed a hand on the nape of Harry's neck. In an instant, all sorrow inside of Harry seemed to evaporate until he felt perfectly agreeable again.

At last, they left the stairs behind them and began strolling across the clearance that lay at the bottom of the hill. Yulub had abandoned her throne upon Snape's shoulders and was skipping merrily ahead of them, chatting to Priya who was walking by her side. Harry and Professor Snape followed in some distance.

Once again Harry felt as though he was living in a dream. How else could it be explained that he had been locked inside a cupboard and thoroughly miserable less than two hours ago, but was now taking a walk in the moonlight with Severus Snape? And to see the Malfoys, no less?

After some time, they reached the lake. Knowing and serene it lay in front of them, sparkling underneath the star-spangled sky. Remembering how sure he had been to never come here again, Harry breathed in deeply in an attempt to memorize this moment with all his senses.

'All right, Potter?' Snape asked, looking down on him with an unreadable expression on his face.

Harry smiled. 'Yeah. How far is it?' he asked.

'You'll see for yourself soon enough,' his teacher replied mysteriously and they began to follow Priya and Yulub on their way around the lake.

Harry looked around sceptically. Unless Draco had kept from him the fact that he and his parents were really merpeople and living _in_ the lake, he couldn't for the life of him see where they were heading. He and Draco had been roaming this particular area many a times during the summer holidays and Harry was certain he had never seen another house than Snape's on any side of the lake. Not in walking distance and not … anywhere.

They had walked for about five minutes and had almost reached the opposite shore, when Severus, in that now familiar gesture, put a hand on Harry's neck. And before Harry's mind could begin to wonder or do anything other than cherish the man's touch, a dark house materialised in front of them - suddenly towering on the other side of the lake that, up until a second ago, had been occupied by nothing but a few solitary trees. If it hadn't been for Severus Snape's hand on his neck (which always seemed to calm him to a point of bliss), Harry strongly suspected he would have lost his footing. Or fainted in shock.

His mouth dropped open and he turned to look at his Potions master. 'Is that were Draco lives?'

'It is, indeed,' nodded Snape.

Harry stared at the large, dark house and then back at him. 'Has it always been there?' he asked in astonishment.

Again, Severus nodded.

'But why did I never see it before?' Harry stuttered as he stumbled onwards.

'Because the Malfoys did not want you to see it before.'

'Oh,' said Harry. Then he shook his head and announced: 'It'sofficial! I will _never_ get used to this whole magic thing.'

Snape gave his neck a little squeeze before removing his hand. 'Don't worry,' he said. 'Neither will I.'

Harry laughed in polite disbelief, when Snape suddenly said: 'Potter, I need to ask you a favour.'

'Let me guess,' Harry grinned. 'You want me to _not_ ruin the mood by mentioning Voldemort tonight?'

Severus smiled slightly. 'While that would certainly help with the Christmas cheer, it is not what I want to ask of you.'

'What is it then?'

Severus stopped walking. Harry did, too.

'I need you to promise me that you will notify me at once, should you become aware of any connection to the Dark Lord tonight,' Snape said.

'You mean, like the fact that I'm sitting at Lucius Malfoy's table?' Harry couldn't resist asking.

Severus grinned. Almost appreciatively, Harry thought.

'That's not quite what I had in mind,' the teacher said and Harry nodded.

'No,' he said bitterly. 'I know. You were talking more along the lines of me turning into a snake and ripping open good men like Mr. Weasley and leaving them almost bleeding to death. Why didn't you leave me at Privet Drive when you're afraid that I might … turn into Voldemort after all? Maybe I should go back, Professor. This was never a good idea to begin with!'

Harry turned on his heels in an attempt to storm off, back to Snape Manor, but two hands on his shoulders held him back and Harry's body relented as easily as if placed under an Imperius Curse. Swiftly, Snape turned him back around. Then, still holding Harry by his shoulders, he looked at him very intently and said: 'Don't be a fool, Potter! You know as well as I do that the attack on Arthur Weasley was not your fault!'

He shook Harry slightly to emphasize.

'You were not the snake, Harry! You did not hurt anyone! And I'm not afraid that you might hurt anyone tonight! But there _is_ a risk that Voldemort will attempt to enter your mind again and you will have to understand that I need to do everything in my power to prevent that from happening, in order to protect those dear to me. In order to protect _you_.'

Harry swallowed.

'Okay,' he whispered. 'And what shall I do if …' His voice trailed off.

'Just come to me as quickly as possible. Tonight. Tomorrow. Any day, any night.'

_Ha! Now that's easy enough!_

'I will, sir,' Harry said. 'I promise.'

* * *

Every two minutes his mother would jump up from her seat on the living room couch and storm into the adjoining dining room to check if everything was _still_ in place and that _really_ nothing had been forgotten. His father would pretend to be oblivious to his wife's nervousness and continue to pace up and down in front of the fire place, only stopping occasionally to lift the curtains and peek into the garden in front of the house.

No, Draco thought, Malfoys didn't take waiting all that well. And waiting for Harry Potter, it seemed, only quadrupled the agony.

Although he himself was the essence of composure, of course! _He_ would only get up from time to time to make sure that all the candles were still burning. Or that his hair was still in place. Or that the roast turkey wasn't burned yet. Or that his room was tidy. Or that the front lawn was well lit. Or that his clothes were clean. Or that his mother hadn't fainted. Or that …

A knock at the door.

Draco, who was just re-arranging the Christmas decoration on the coffee table, froze mid-movement and looked at his mother. Narcissa Malfoy, who had just returned from the dining table (once again), stopped dead in the middle of the room and looked helplessly at her husband. Lucius Malfoy, equally immobilized, stared back at both of them. Then he hollered: 'For Merlin's sake, it's not the Dark Lord himself who's our dinner guest tonight. It's only that …' his face twisted as though he had just bitten on a particularly bitter lemon drop, '… _Harry Potter_, so stop making such a fuss. All of you!'

He strode out of the room and into their entrance hall. Draco and Narcissa followed in respectful distance.

Another knock and Lucius Malfoy opened the door.

_He's come! Blessed be the Gryffindor idio- … Bravery, alright, alright!_

There, between Priya and his godfather, stood Harry Potter. His eyes did not rest on Draco's father, however, but instead travelled right past him inside the house. And Draco realized that Harry was looking for _him_.

Potter _needed_ him.

That's when he became conscious of the fact that he was still hiding behind his mother like a child and, flustered, Draco stepped forward.

'Good evening, my friends,' Lucius Malfoy said, acknowledging Severus and Priya with a smile and a slight bow. Then he looked at the boy who lived.

'Good evening to you, Mister Potter.' He reached out a greeting hand.

Draco smiled at Harry. And Harry smiled back.

'Good evening to you, too, Mister Malfoy,' he said, looking at Draco's father at last.

And then he shook Lucius Malfoy's hand.

_**To be contiued**_

**Author's Note:**  
As the charming anonymous reviewer Snarky B. pointed out, there was a mistake in this chapter. Harry used to say to Severus 'Lucius Malfoy tried to kill me at Godric's Hollow'. Ooops. That is, of course, wrong. It was Little Hangleton, of course. Sorry.

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	24. Fire and Ice

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**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

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Chapter 24  
**"Fire and Ice"**

After a cheerful, and in Harry's case rather uneasy, exchange of hellos, they went into the dining room, where Yulub politely excused herself. But before she could apparate into the kitchen, Draco held her back.

'NO!' he exclaimed, wide-eyed. 'Don't!'

Startled, Yulub looked at him. 'Why not, Master Draco?' she asked fearfully. 'What's wrong?'

'Miko!' Draco said. 'He's not dressed yet.'

In an instant, Yulub's pointy ears began to glow. 'Really, Master Draco,' she mumbled embarrassedly. 'Always, you have to tease us!' And with a light pop she disappeared from the dining-room.

Promptly, Severus smacked his godson over the head. Lucius Malfoy followed suit.

Draco laughed, completely unfazed. 'House-elf love!' he said, guiding Harry towards a chair, 'Gotta love it.'

Harry grinned. Sitting down on the chair next to Professor Snape and opposite Narcissa Malfoy, he saw that Draco's mother was laughing as well. At first she discretely tried to hide it, but when she saw the look on her husbands face, she couldn't help but laugh openly.

Harry gulped. He didn't quite know what disconcerted him more. The fact that Narcissa Malfoy didn't appear anything like the stuck-up Blonde who had always looked as though everyone around her smelled really badly, but was actually _very_ pretty and capable of a smile, or the expression on Lucius Malfoy's face. That one, at least, was familiar. Harry doubted that laughing in front the man was _ever_ a good idea.

But much to Harry's surprise, the corners of Lucius's mouth soon curled into an amused sneer – a mirror image of the smile Harry had become so accustomed to see on Draco's face – and he said: 'And people accuse _me_ of abusing house-elfs.'

He looked at Harry and shook his head almost innocently. 'Really now.'

Harry stared.

Draco, who had sat down next to him, grinned. 'Don't worry, father,' he told Lucius, clapping Harry on the shoulder, 'Despite the holy image Dobby might have of our Golden Boy, Harry Potter's not an elf rights activist.'

Again, Lucius looked at Harry. 'Aren't I glad?' he replied dryly.

Harry blinked.

Had Lucius Malfoy just _winked_ at him?

Helplessly, with his mouth slightly agape, he turned on his seat and looked at Severus as though he was seeking his confirmation. The gesture was so endearing and comical, that the whole table erupted into laughter.

Amused, Snape reached out and ruffled Harry's hair very briefly.

Blushing an even deeper shade of red, Harry was very grateful for the interruption brought on by Yulub and Miko, who began serving a Christmas dinner now that smelled just as delicious as it looked, both with rather glowing faces and many discomfited glances in Draco's direction who snickered gleefully every time he noticed.

It took a while, but eventually Harry understood that Lucius Malfoy was _not_ going to whip out his wand and that no Death Eaters would jump from behind the curtains around them, and he began to relax a little and even appreciate the food.

As did Draco.

'Hmmm,' the Blonde said, smacking his lips rapturously. 'Mother dearest, you really outdid yourself this time, I must say. I can't remember the last time I've eaten this well.'

Harry remembered what Severus had said about Mrs. Malfoy's cooking and looked at her. Narcissa cocked her head to the side, raised her eyebrows and looked at her son with a shrewd smile on her face as though she knew exactly what Draco was going to say next.

'Hang on,' continued Draco, tapping his chin musingly, 'I think I _do_ remember. Why, it was last year's Christmas.'

Narcissa smiled sweetly and Harry had the feeling of witnessing a piece of dialogue between Draco and his mother that was only too familiar to both parties.

'Why,' said Narcissa airily, 'I didn't make dinner tonight, son. Priya did. Just like last year and the year before. And the year before that.'

'Oh, really?' Draco asked, shaking his head in mock surprise. 'Why, that explains everything.'

Lucius and Severus chuckled, but Harry (finding himself rather enamored with Draco's beautiful mum and not wanting her to think him rude) politely tried to hide his grin. Priya merely rolled her eyes towards the ceiling, but said nothing.

Draco, however, grinned brightly at his mother. 'Ah! But mum, you know I'm just teasing you. You're a splendid cook! Really! Your spinach dish yesterday, for example, was the best I've ever had.'

Next to his wife, Lucius snorted discretely into his glass of wine. Narcissa laughed.

'You know damn well that it was Chicken Curry, you ungrateful child. Continue like this, sparkplug, and I will disinherit you faster than you can say Quidditch.'

'Mother,' replied Draco matter-of-factly. 'Don't call me sparkplug in front of Harry Potter! It's embarrassing.'

Everyone laughed.

Draco looked at Harry who giggled, too.

'I'm warning you, Potter!' he said, pointing his fork at the other boy. 'Tell anyone at Hogwarts my mother calls me that and I'm going to Crucio you into the next century.'

'Spoken like the true son of a Death Eater,' Harry deadpanned. Upon realizing what he had said, his eyes widened in shock and he stared at Lucius Malfoy, gnawing his bottom lip nervously.

Lucius raised his eyebrows. Then he picked up his wine glass.

'Spoken like the true son of a Gryffindor,' he toasted, grinning.

* * *

_As soon as she found out that she was pregnant, Narcissa Malfoy's world began to change. Politics became a triviality. Purity of blood – what did it matter when you were carrying a child underneath your heart? When she felt that little life inside of her stir for the first time, Narcissa realized that she did not want her son to grow up surrounded by hatred, cruelty and pain. And when her husband placed that tiny screaming bundle in her arms for the first time, she told him she would not be loyal to the Dark Lord any longer._

_Lucius had almost left her then._

_Tightly woven into Tom Riddle's cobweb of bigotry, megalomania and thirst for revenge, Lucius Malfoy took great pride in being a Death Eater, the Dark Lord's favorite. Truly believing in the superiority of pure wizard blood and with an innate dislike for Muggles, Lucius Malfoy _wanted_ to serve the Dark Lord and his goals. He _wanted_ to be a Death Eater. _

_During the first year of Draco's life, Narcissa knew that her husband's only reason for staying with them, for tolerating her rebellion and still protecting them, was that appearance mattered too much to Lucius to abandon them. A divorce would have meant failure. And a Malfoy never failed. _

_She never doubted that he loved her and his son dearly, but he was in it too deep. There seemed to be no way out for Lucius Malfoy._

_Then came the day Lord Voldemort got wind of the rumor of a Seer having made a prophecy regarding him and some wizard's baby that would one day end his life. Livid with anger, he ordered his Death Eaters to find either Seer or child and bring them before him. It was only out of loyalty to his best friend that Lucius did not tell the Dark Lord about Severus Snape's soulmate and the prophecy that forbade the man to ever come near James Potter's child then._

"And what shall lead to his victory over the dark side, shall lead to his downfall in the end.  
The boy who lived will die for the man he's living for."

_And so the days went by when Voldemort's minions found neither Seer nor child. In his madness, Voldemort pressured them by threatening to kill every wizard's child in England that was under three years old. With his own wand if he had to. Including the children of his Death Eaters._

_Including Draco._

_To this day, Narcissa wasn't sure if it had been the simple fact that Voldemort had become a threat to his son's life, that had caused Lucius to turn against the Dark Lord or the fact that, when he went to reveal Harry Potter's name to the Dark Lord, Severus had already beaten him to it. Risking the life of his future mate in order to protect Lucius's son._

_Severus wasn't too worried about the Potters, however. 'Sirius Black is their Secret-Keeper' he kept saying. 'If anyone's going to be loyal to Potter and Evans, it's him. He's Harry's godfather! And he's a Gryffindor and you know how _they_ are. Harry's safe, I'm sure of it. They won't be found.'_

_His words were haunting Narcissa still._

* * *

After dinner, they all assembled in the Malfoy's magnificently decorated lounge, but Draco took Harry by the arm and pulled the Gryffindor with him. 'Let's go,' he said, 'You'll still get to hear enough embarrassing Christmas anecdotes tomorrow, no doubt.' 

Harry smiled and after one last look back at Snape (whether to assure himself that it was okay to leave or whether to assure Severus that he had not forgotten about his promise, he could not say), he followed Draco upstairs into his room.

Even if he had seen many teenage wizards' bedrooms beside the Weasleys' before, they could have never prepared Harry for the sight of Draco Malfoy's room.

Cold and sterile as it was, Harry felt uncomfortably reminded of a hospital. Only that the dominating color in Draco's room wasn't the sanitary white, but a polished, spotless black. The floor, the furniture, even the walls were black. The only few splotches of color were Slytherin Green and could be found on the curtains, the bedspread, the two pillows on either end of a black couch and a small triangle rug covering up a few shiny black tiles. Furniture aside, Harry would have never guessed that anyone was actually _living _in this room, for it seemed as impersonal as a showcase room displayed in a Muggle magazine for interior design. The expensive kind.  
The only thing that actually reminded of Draco were five small Slytherin banners that were neatly and very geometrically pinned against the walls – two above the couch and three over the bed.

Wide-eyed Harry looked around until he felt Draco's eyes resting on him. Feeling obliged to comment, Harry said:

'Erm.'

Draco smirked. 'You like it?'

'Y-yeah?' Harry lied unconvincingly. His makeshift room at number four, Privet Drive had never seemed more homely.

'Liar,' replied Draco flatly, still observing Harry closely.

Harry felt himself blush. 'W-well,' he stuttered, 'It's not quite what I've expected, I guess.'

'No?' Draco asked, surprised. 'You don't reckon this looks like the room of a Death Eater's son, then?'

'Draco …,' Harry started uncomfortably, but when his eyes fell upon the door that Draco had just closed behind them, he stopped mid-sentence. His mouth fell open as he stared at the large poster that covered almost half of the bedroom door. It took him quite a while to recover, but at last he gulped down his astonishment and choked out: 'Oh, I reckon! I see Death Eaters have their own merchandising? Awesome!'

He gave his head a small shake as if to shake off the last remnants of a dream – a nightmare, no less – and would have bolted past Draco and out of the offending door, if the Slytherin had not grabbed him by the shoulders and very sternly said: 'Potter! Wait!'

'Why? Harry hissed, 'So you can show me your _other_ posters? The one of me being Crucio'd by good old Voldie, maybe? You know, the one with Cedric lying dead at my feet and your father looking on?'

Draco jerked his hands away from Harry's arms, as if he had been badly burned.

'Or would you rather show me a sticker album of the night he killed my parents?' Harry went on. He felt so cold all of a sudden that he began to tremble.

'That was uncalled for,' said Draco, standing very still. 'But, given the circumstances, I understand that you must feel uneasy.'

'Uneasy?' Harry asked, his voice hard now. 'But why should I feel uneasy? Because you have a fucking poster of the Dark Mark on your door? Neon fucking green? Skull, snake and everything? Like some fucking _groupie_?' He laughed bitterly. 'What's next, Malfoy? Will you get that kick-ass tattoo on your forearm like all the big Death Eaters, sparkplug? Or, pray tell, do you already have it?'

He grabbed for Draco's arm, but once more Draco jerked away from him.

'You're an ass, Potter,' he said very quietly. 'But, like I said, I understand. It was extremely brave of you to come here tonight, despite the fact that you knew my parents to be Death Eaters. You probably did it for my godfather's sake only, and that's just as well for me and not any less admirable, but I must admit that I fancied myself to be a little more trusted in your eyes by now.'

Whether it was the quiet manner in which Draco spoke or the sincerity in his grey eyes, Harry did not know, but he suddenly felt very ashamed of himself. What in Merlin's beard had gotten into him? Oh, the things he had said!

'I will also admit,' Draco continued, 'that I thought you had a sense of humor, Potter. Otherwise I would have never left this room in this state for you to see. Apparently I was wrong and so I apologize.'

And with that he pulled out his wand, swished it a few times and mumbled some incantation.

And before Harry's very eyes, Draco's bedroom began to change.

It was as though the room had turned into a sticker that was slowly but steadily being peeled off now, only to reveal another picture underneath. The glossy floor gave way to a snug dark green carpet; the meticulously empty desk was suddenly filled with books, parchments and quills. Colorful paintings, family snapshots and Quidditch posters added themselves to the few Slytherin banners that already occupied the walls, which were now pleasantly wallpapered. And the right-hand wall of the room, which so far had been a shiny black, blank wall with nothing on nor in front of it, suddenly revealed several overflowing bookshelves and, to Harry's utmost surprise, a Hi-Fi Tower, complete with a television set, video, stereo and many, many shelves filled to the brim with CDs and videos.

Harry stared, open-mouthed.

Slowly, and not yet daring to meet eyes with Draco, he turned his head to look at the door. The neon skull was gone, replaced by a very colorful tour poster of the Weird Sisters.

The stark contrast of this warm and friendly bedroom to the black _cell_ it had been only seconds before, managed what all of Draco's many lengthy monologues about the "importance of appearance" during the past few months had not. For the first time Harry thought he had the _morsel_ of an idea of what it must be like to be Draco Malfoy. For the first time he thought he could truly appreciate the price Draco paid every day by pretending to be a Muggle-hating, Voldemort-worshipping son of a Death Eater.

'I'm sorry,' he said at last. 'Draco, I'm _so_ sorry.'

'It's okay,' replied Draco stiffly. 'Forget it.'

Harry shook his head. 'It's not okay,' he said softly. 'You're right, I _am_ an ass! And if you never wanted to speak to me again, I would understand. What I said was mean and stupid and ... just wrong! None of what Voldemort ever did to me was your fault. I do trust you! I don't even truly understand why, but I do, and I want us to be friends. I don't really understand that either, but-'

The rest of Harry's apology drowned in a low hissing noise as he suddenly drew in a sharp breath, brought his hands to his forehead and bent over in pain.

'HARRY!'

Draco's voice came from far, far away. A dull ache had begun to pound through Harry's head in odd intervals, reminding him of a hammer that was being brought down by a rather inexperienced hand. The nail, however, was his skull.

And Voldemort was the hammer.

'Severus,' Harry gasped. He screwed his eyes shut and stumbled blindly towards the door. 'Severus!' he repeated. 'Draco, I need to-'

But before Draco even had a chance to react, the door was thrown open and his godfather came rushing in. His parents followed soon afterwards, looking as agitated as Draco felt. Snape hurried over to Harry, who was swaying back and forth on his knees now, and knelt down in front of him. 'Harry,' he said urgently. 'Look at me, open your eyes.'

'No,' Harry protested through clenched teeth. 'He'll see you! Go away! All of you!'

His eyes never leaving Harry, Severus motioned for the Malfoys to leave the room. 'Out! Everyone!' he ordered.

Lucius and his son obliged immediately, but Narcissa seemed too shocked to move. Her face had lost all its color and she stared down at Harry, who was still clutching his throbbing forehead with both his hands.

* * *

'_No, Lucius. No. I refuse.' _

_Narcissa Malfoy turned her back to her husband and walked over to the window of his study on the second floor. From there she had perfect view into their garden behind the house, where her little son was playing in the sun, under the watchful eyes of his nanny. Narcissa watched as Draco abandoned his chase of butterflies to race after a couple of garden trolls who had been trying to sneak past unnoticed and now ran from the child as fast as their little legs would carry them, their delighted squeals of laughter mingling with Draco's._

_Narcissa smiled._

_She felt Lucius stepping behind her and leaned back against him as he encircled her waist with both of his arms, resting his chin on her shoulder._

'_Will you just look at him,' she pleaded. _

'_I am looking,' replied Lucius calmly. 'And I can see that Draco is old enough now.'_

'_Old enough? Lucius, he's five years old. Only five! And he's so full of life!'_

'_A life that I want to protect, Narcissa.'_

'_A life that you're going to destroy!' Narcissa yelled. She turned around and stepped out of her husband's embrace, glaring at him. 'If Severus starts teaching Draco Occlumency now and is successful-'_

'_He will be successful,' Lucius interrupted._

'_SUCCESSFUL IN SQUASHING DRACO'S SPIRIT, YES!'_

_Lucius rolled his eyes. 'Darling, please, the drama!' he sighed, exasperated. 'You know as well as I do that Draco could not wish for a better teacher than Severus. He would never hurt our son.'_

_Narcissa threw up her hands. _

'_Of course he won't hurt him!' she cried. 'Do you seriously think it's Severus I'm afraid of? Of course not! But I'm not naïve, Lucius, I know that it won't stop with Draco knowing how to close his mind against intruders. He's such a lively, little spirit! So playful, amicable and curious, so … vibrant. And if you take all that away from him by turning him into an Occlumens (and you will take it away from him, Lucius!) at such a young age, you will change his whole Being! If he learns to hide his feelings behind a mask already at the age of FIVE, it will change who he is, whether you want to or not!'_

_Lucius briefly closed his eyes._

'_Occlumency will be necessary, Narcissa, in order to PROTECT his spirit! The sooner Draco learns to close his mind the better. He needs to be prepared and ready once the Dark Lord returns.'_

'_The Dark Lord!' Narcissa spat. 'Ruining our lives even from his grave!' _

_Without another word, she turned towards the window once more to look at her son. Draco was slowly approaching one of the Rhododendron bushes now, probably tiptoeing in on some unsuspecting garden trolls only to scare the Bejesus out of them a second later. But instead her son merely put his hands on either side of his hips and began talking to someone or something Narcissa couldn't see and, quietly, she laughed. Her little man was probably lecturing the trolls now (as if that would ever keep them off the grass) or scolding a couple of quarrelling fairies._

'_I cannot allow Severus to teach my child,' Narcissa said. _

_Draco had dropped his hands and his patronizing manner now and walked closer to the Rhododendron, curiously, and still talking to someone unseen. But the old witch that was watching Draco over her needlework didn't seem worried, and when her son disappeared behind the bushes and out of sight, Narcissa wasn't worried either. The Malfoy Estate was guarded by countless ancient spells, one more powerful than the next, and no creature that wasn't allowed to step foot on their grounds would ever get close enough to harm her son. Surely he had just discovered yet another one of the many miracles of the wizarding world. Or Dobby doing the gardening._

_Through her tears, Narcissa smiled. Then she turned around to her husband. 'I don't want my son to grow up like this, Lucius. He doesn't deserve it, he's still a baby.'_

_Lucius's face grew hard._

_'I'm sure you'll remember that the_ _Dark Lord is not beyond hurting an innocent baby if that serves his goals,' he said harshly. 'Draco will begin his Occlumency lessons tomorrow morning. And I will hear no more of this.'_

* * *

'CISSA, LEAVE!' Severus yelled. Finally, Lucius managed to pull his wife out of the room and Harry and Severus were alone. 

Snape placed a hand on either side of Harry's face, cradling the boy's head gently but resolutely. 'I need you to look into my eyes, Harry,' he said calmly. 'Look at me.'

'NO!' Harry cried. 'I can't! He's almost there! If he sees you …!'

'Harry, trust me,' Severus said urgently. 'I know what I'm doing! And I can only help you if you open your eyes to look at me.'

Reluctantly, Harry opened his eyes. His Potions teacher looked rather blurry behind the veil of tears and Harry blinked to clear his vision, before he was able to fully meet Snape's gaze.

Their eyes locked.

Instantly, the deep black of Snape's dark orbs grew larger and larger until it swallowed Harry and all there was left to see was darkness. Harry knew neither time nor space. A calmness he had never experienced before came over him. He was strangely aware of the fact that the teacher had entered his mind – _or had he entered his? _– but this entry was neither painful nor was it frightening. It was right. It felt as though Severus had thrown a blanket over Harry's soul. Wrapping him. Shielding him. Protecting him.

And Harry let go.

_**To be continued**_


	25. Awakening

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**Disclaimer:**  
I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

**Author's Note:  
**Please note that I had to increase the rating to "M" for this one_ :grins:_

* * *

Chapter 25  
**"Awakening"**

It didn't take long and the pounding in Severus's head became weaker and weaker and soon vanished all together. The Dark Lord had not managed to enter Harry's mind – or rather _their_ minds - over such a distance and Severus guessed that, without direct eye contact, it would still be a while until he was able to.

For now his mate's mind was safe and so were they.

When Harry's body slackened and his head, which Severus was still cradling in his hands, lolled back, Narcissa – fearing for the worst - gave a small, terrified scream. Severus calmed her.

'Don't worry,' he said, gently gathering Harry in his arms. 'He's alright. The Dark Lord did not succeed.'

Overwhelmed by the strength and intensity of their previous connection and not yet trusting himself to get up on steady legs, Severus remained seated on the floor of Draco's bedroom. Harry's head was resting on his shoulder, his even breath delightfully tickling Severus's neck. The teacher tightened his embrace protectively. Possessively.

Meanwhile, Draco sighed in relief. 'How Potter could ever become famous for repeatedly escaping the Dark Lord is beyond me,' he sneered nervously. 'I mean, all he ever does is faint when life gets too uncomfortable.'

'He hasn't fainted. He's fallen asleep.'

'Big difference,' Draco retorted. 'So the Golden Boy takes a nap when things get rough.'

At that, Lucius, whose face had been etched with worry until now, grinned.

'What did you do with Harry just now, anyway?' Draco wanted to know from Severus.

Calmly Severus looked at his godson. 'I entered his mind and blocked out the Dark Lord for him,' he answered truthfully.

'Uh-huh,' nodded Draco casually, but his brows furrowed ever so slightly.

Severus had expected this. Draco was smart and knew too much about the art of Occlumency – and its limits – to be fooled easily. Severus knew that behind his indifferent manner, Draco's brain was now working furiously, trying to add up the facts. Trying to make sense of what he knew to be unachievable for an Occlumens (even one as skilled as his godfather), all the while unsuspecting, of course, of the soulmate bond that Severus and his charge shared with each other.

'And Harry fell asleep because…?' Draco asked, stretching the last word invitingly, offering Severus the opportunity to present a plausible explanation.

The only plausible (and true) explanation would have been to admit that this first thorough bonding of their minds had left Harry in such a state of perfect tranquility and bliss that he had simply fallen into a very peaceful, very heavy slumber. However, Severus knew that this was neither the right time nor place to reveal to Draco that his godfather was bonded to a boy of Draco's own age. One of his classmates, too. The boy who lived, no less.

He got up from the floor, safely carrying Harry's sleeping form in his arms, and simply replied: 'He must have been tired.'

'But isn't it dangerous for him to be asleep now?' Draco frowned. 'Sleep makes the mind even more vulnerable. What if Lord Voldemort tries to attack again?'

'He won't,' answered Severus. 'The Dark Lord is not as strong as he fancies himself to be.'

'But how do you know he won't try again?' Draco insisted.

'It's enough that he does, son!' Lucius replied sharply, effectively silencing any further inquiries. 'Now Sev, I expect you are not going to floo back with the boy?'

Severus shook his head. 'No. Although I highly doubt it, our passage might not be safe anymore and I'm in no mood to find out tonight.'

'Then I will accompany you and Potter back to Snape Manor,' Lucius offered.

Severus smiled. 'You're more than welcome to take a walk with me, but I don't need you to guard me, my friend. I won't be taking Harry back with me, Priya will.'

With a nod of his head he acknowledged the Indian who had just entered the room. Priya smiled, nodded back almost unnoticeably and (with a grotesque strength that no unsuspecting onlooker would ever expect of such small and gracile woman) took Harry from Severus's arms. Effortlessly she carried the sleeping teenager out of the room.

'What if he wakes up?' Narcissa asked, wide-eyed.

Severus shrugged, unconcerned. 'Then he'd be in for quite a ride, wouldn't he?' he asked with half a smile.

'Ride is not quite the word I would have used myself, but I suppose you're right,' Lucius muttered.

The two men grinned at each other.

* * *

Priya handed him a hot steaming mug of coffee with a smile. 

Severus accepted it gratefully, climbing on one of the high chairs behind the counter in the middle of their kitchen. 'Did he wake?' he asked quite needlessly, knowing the answer already.

'Of course not,' Priya replied. 'One shock is quite enough for one night. The poor boy! Are you sure Voldemort hasn't noticed anything?'

Severus took a large gulp of coffee before answering her. 'Yes, I'm sure. But it's only a matter of time until he will be able to connect with Harry. And what if I'm not around then? What if the Dark Lord finds out how attached he's become to us all?'

The latter was another rhetorical question and Priya knew it.

'You know that he won't,' she said to him. 'Thanks to future Harry, we already know that none of us will be harmed by Voldemort.'

'Except Harry himself,' Severus replied gravely.

'You don't know that.'

'Because the little brat just won't talk to me about what will happen to him, that's why!' he answered heatedly, banging his flat hand on the table. 'There's so much I need to ask him! About the memory I've kept hidden in the Pensieve, for example! If at least he would tell me when and where he and the Dark Lord will have their final confrontation, so that I …'

Severus broke off, tiredly rubbing his eyes, and Priya put a hand on his shoulder.

'It has to be enough for us to know that Harry will defeat _and_ survive that monster in due time,' she said quietly. 'Don't pressure him. Harry's future self will have his reasons for not telling you more and you have to respect his decisions.'

Severus sighed. 'Well, I couldn't do any different even if I wanted to, for I haven't seen my dear husband in quite a while.' For a moment he looked almost sad, but the clouds quickly disappeared from his face and he smiled at Priya. 'Then again, that's not quite true, is it? He's right upstairs.'

'He is, Sev,' Priya confirmed gently. 'Harry's right where he belongs.'

If Severus had known just _how_ literally true both of them were with regard to his "future husband", he most likely would have retired to his bedroom right away. As it was, he remained seated and smiled back at her before nodding almost thoughtfully. Then, after taking another sip from his coffee mug, he quietly began to tell Priya about his first bonding with Harry.

'I've read his thoughts before, so maybe I shouldn't have been surprised by how easily I entered his mind,' (here he chuckled lightly) 'but it blew me away just the same. We connected instantly, Priya, and I located the spot where the Dark Lord was trying to enter at once. I didn't even have to think about what I was doing, it just happened! Our souls became one, just like that!' He snapped his fingers. 'I … I "sealed" his mind, I guess is the best way to put it.'

His testimony became more and more animated and Priya watched lovingly as the usually so reserved man continued to talk about his experience with glowing eyes.

'Harry, he … he _trusted_ me! He was never scared, not for one moment. Oh Priya, who could blame me for wanting to know his every move, to be there to protect him on every step of his way? Who could blame me? The way he trusts me already, Priya, it's unbelievable. He-'

He stopped, overcome with emotion.

'He loves you,' Priya finished his last sentence tenderly.

The Potions master looked at her. Then he nodded in silent amazement. 'He does,' he agreed quietly. 'I think, he really does.'

He got up from his chair and dropped a kiss on Priya's temple, wishing her goodnight. With a flick of his wand he cleaned his now empty coffee mug and put it back on the shelf. But before disappearing through the kitchen door, he turned around once more.

'I love him, too,' he said.

* * *

Severus was still so wrapped in the evening's events and the first bonding with Harry that, when he stepped into his bedroom, for one surreal moment he thought his mind was playing tricks on him. 

There in his bed lay Harry Potter. Sleeping soundly.

After blinking in disbelief and consequently making sure the boy was no delusion, Severus mentally began ticking off the next possible options – all within the flash of a second.

- Priya had placed Harry in his bed instead of his own. - Unreasonable. Besides, she would have told him so just now.  
- Harry had snuck into his bedroom on his own account. – Nonsense. Unfortunately.  
- Harry had been sleepwalking. – Unreasonable. Potter might love roaming the dark corridors of Hogwarts at night, but he was no sleepwalker.  
- This wasn't Harry. – Reasonable. Except that it was Harry. He could _feel_ it.  
- This was his time-traveling future husband…

There, his racing mind came to an abrupt halt and confirmed. Severus smiled.

_Speaking of the devil. _

With a flick of his wand he ignited some candles before switching off the main lights in the same manner. After that he quietly walked around the bed and sat down on the arm chair that stood next to Harry's bedside. Severus bent forward until his elbows touched his knees, folded his hands underneath his chin and watched the sleeping, young man contemplatively.

_God, he's beautiful. _

Harry lay on his side, facing Severus. The candle-light danced upon his serene features and his breath was calm and even. Harry's head (the raven-black hair slightly longer than that of his younger counterpart) was resting on one of his arms, while the other arm was hidden underneath the blanket. Only the hand was visible, curling around the excess material of a white long-sleeved shirt. Automatically, Severus's eyes searched for the wedding band. He frowned slightly when he saw none on either one of Harry's hands, but of course this could mean many things. Maybe it was lying on the bedside table, left behind in the future.

Suddenly Harry's even breathing stopped. He shifted slightly … and opened his eyes. Drowsily, he blinked a few times before he spotted Severus. Harry smiled.

'Hullo,' he greeted in a hoarse whisper, his voice thick with sleep.

'Hello,' replied Severus, suddenly rather hoarse himself.

'You're back,' Harry said. Severus, thinking that this should really have been his part, merely nodded.

Harry sat up sleepily. 'I hope you don't mind me being here,' he croaked while rubbing his eyes with the knuckles of both his hands.

Severus shook his head. 'Of course not,' he said softly.

Why would he mind? Why would Harry think he'd mind?

But before Severus could make up his mind to ask, Harry threw back his covers and got up from the bed. Only now did the teacher recognize the too-large shirt that Harry was wearing as one of his own dress shirts and he briefly wondered whether its present counterpart was still hanging in his closet. Either way, Severus doubted it had ever looked this good on _him_. Underneath the white shirt that was buttoned up only half-way and slipped over one of his shoulders now, exposing a delicate patch of light marble skin, Harry wore a pair of black boxer shorts.

Severus felt his heartbeat quicken.

Harry walked over to Severus's armchair, stopping so close in front of him that their knees were touching. He looked down at him somewhat shyly yet expectantly, as if he was unsure of what to do next. Severus leaned back in his chair. Pleased with the invitation, Harry climbed onto his lap and straddled him. For a while all they did was look at each other attentively.

'They don't know I'm here,' Harry confided at last. 'You won't tell on me, will you? Lucius would have a fit if he knew I'm not at school.'

Severus could only shake his head no rather stupidly, because Harry's statement caused his heart to get caught in his throat for two reasons. For one thing, Harry's reference to Lucius implied quite clearly that the Malfoys were his guardians. So he had been right after all!

_Go me. _

The other reason Harry's confession stunned him was that it gave the lack of a wedding band on Harry's finger a whole new meaning. If Harry ought to be in school instead of, well, sleeping in Severus's bed … did that mean he was still a student? Did that mean they weren't married yet? And did _that_ mean that Harry's time-travels into the past did not happen in chronological order?

Severus's mind was swirling. And it didn't exactly help that Harry suddenly announced: 'Professor Snape, I'm going to kiss you now.'

Severus smirked. 'Are you now?' he asked.

'I am,' Harry nodded very gravely. 'And there's nothing you can do about it.'

Severus smiled.

'No!' Harry said sternly, shaking his head. 'Your protests will get you nowhere, Mister! I've made up my mind! I will kiss you now and no one can stop me, least of all you.'

'Potter?'

Harry grinned. 'Yes sir?'

'_Do_ it already.'

Harry leaned forward until their noses almost touched. 'Stop protesting,' he whispered. 'I'm telling you it won't help you, Professor. Mark my words, if I say I'm going to kiss you, then I will and-'

He never finished his last sentence because Severus had decided to take matters into his own hands, by putting same on the back of Harry's head, pulling him closer and pressing his lips onto Harry's in a rather rough kiss.

'Tease,' he growled and Harry chuckled into their kiss before wrapping his arms tightly around his neck. Severus folded his arms around the young man in return.

'I've missed you,' Harry said and the urgency in his voice matched that of his kiss.

'Did you, Potter?' Severus breathed, his mouth never leaving Harry's. 'Is that why you're sleeping in my bed when you should be in school? Wearing one of my shirts?'

At that Harry pulled back, so that he could look into Severus's face. 'Do you mind?' he asked, suddenly worried. 'It's just … I can't seem to sleep when … and I figured you'd … and I wanted …'

Severus interrupted the stuttering time traveler by catching Harry's bottom lip between his teeth and biting it softly. Harry quiet laughter turned into a moan, when he began to trace his upper lip slowly with his tongue, and he quickly opened his mouth to grant Severus entrance.

A small portion of Severus's brain screamed for him to stop. Screamed at him, that this was wrong. _Just wrong!_ His mate was sleeping just across the corridor at this very moment, innocent and unsuspecting, while he was busy taking advantage of the boy's future self.

His dick, however, didn't seem to share these reservations.

Protesting fiercely against the confinement of his pants, it was all but begging Harry for attention. Besides, Severus tried to reason, what was he supposed to do? He couldn't tell Harry that he had traveled back into time. Because … he already knew that he wouldn't. Hadn't.

This particular future version of Harry was obviously younger than the one that had landed in his bathroom a good two years ago. And if the latter Harry had been so startled and greatly scared by his transfer into the past, it meant he had never been conscious of any of his time-travels before. Thus, nobody had ever told him _before_ that particular day, which meant that Severus would not reveal it today.

_Dizzy, yet? _

But any thoughts Severus might have had about time as such or the fifteen year old Harry Potter sleeping next door or, say, a troubling memory in his Pensieve that demanded answers, were wiped away when he felt his shirt slipping off his shoulders and, Harry's mouth following the same direction down his exposed chest soon afterwards. He shuddered with anticipation, when a playful tongue pushed at his erect left nipple; gasped, when Harry sucked it gently.

Only when his clouded brain registered that the nimble fingers that were reaching for his belt now, undoing the buckle and then releasing one button after the other with a slight pop, were trembling slightly, did Severus manage to wrench his eyes open again.

'Harry,' he rasped. 'You don't have to do this.'

_Just ignore the fact that my dick begs to differ, will you?_

But it seemed as though Harry was unwilling or unable to ignore just that, because he raised his eyebrows rather skeptically and smirked in a very Malfoy-ish way.

'I don't?' he asked (Severus could swear that there was a _purr_ in his voice!) and before the teacher knew what was happening, Harry ran a bent index finger – ever so gently – up the goddamn piece of fabric that still imprisoned Severus's cock. Slowly. Just once. Teasing.

_Damn the brat._

'Are you sure about that?' Harry whispered.

Apparently, the fact that Severus couldn't answer was all the answer Harry needed and he leaned forward, eagerly capturing Severus's mouth with his own. For a while their tongues fought a silent battle that knew no losers, but when Harry slipped his hand inside Severus's briefs and boldly wrapped it around his erection, Severus gave up all resistance. His head lolled back until it rested against the back of his chair and, with his eyes closed, he gave in to the waves of pleasure that rolled over him with every single one of Harry's strokes. They were tentative, even a little clumsy at first, and altogether the best thing Severus had ever felt in his entire life. Enthusiasm made up for inexperience and Harry soon found his rhythm. It didn't take long and Severus found himself thrusting upward into the young man's hand.

When he opened his eyes, he saw that Harry was watching him carefully. The look on his face was lingering somewhere between wonder and pride and only then did Severus begin to guess that this was just as new for Harry as it was for him.

Could it really be? Was this Potter's first time? Had he not been intimate with him – or rather, with Severus's future self – before? Could it be?

'Harry …' he groaned, but the rest of the sentence just wouldn't come out.

_- I've been waiting for this moment ever since before you were born, but hey, you can stop here if you want. You don't have to go on. We don't have to do this now. I can wait. Really. -_

It wouldn't come. Refused!

'Harry …,' Severus tried again, but again it sounded more like an encouragement than a serious attempt of ... of … _oh by gods!_

'Do you like this?' Harry asked.

_Could Merlin conjure up white rabbits?_

'Yes,' Severus rasped. 'I … _yes_!'

'Good,' Harry said matter-of-factly. 'Because you won't stop me this time.'

_'Stopping? Who's trying to stop you? Not me!'_ Severus thought.

'Ughn- No!' was what he said.

'Articulate! Aren't we tonight, Professor Snape?' Harry grinned and quickly covered his teacher's mouth with another kiss, snickering devilishly.

_Before I can deduct any house points. Heh. _

Harry's hand rested on Severus's throbbing sex. Confidently. Severus felt a stupid grin spread on his face and he reached up and cupped the young man's head in his hands in an unconscious repetition of the position he had assumed with the younger Harry only few hours ago, when he had protected his mind from Voldemort. Hungrily, they kissed each other for a blissful minute or two, during which Harry resumed his attentive administrations.

The feeling of Harry's enthusiastic exploration of his mouth (and his cock, mind!) being so new to him – and so utterly, truly, perfectly amazing – it was all Severus could do to not come right then and there. His hands dropped from Harry's face and blindly he reached for Harry's shirt – _his_ shirt – instead, fumbling open the small shimmering buttons, fingers trembling with impatience.

'Uh-uh,' Harry said and wriggled backwards a few inches. Severus looked at him questioningly. Guilty.

Harry smiled. 'Not so fast, Professor,' he whispered and slipped off the Potions master's lap and onto the floor, so that he was kneeling between the other man's legs.

'Take'em off,' Harry said breathlessly, tugging at the belt hoops of Severus's pant.

Momentarily forgetting to breathe, Severus lifted his hips off the chair, enabling Harry to pull the pants off his body in one fluid motion. Soon completely naked, safe for his open shirt, Severus felt very self-conscious all of a sudden. His hands tightened around the arms of his chair.

_What the fuck am I doing here?_

Would Harry be disappointed? He was old enough to be Harry's father and, _let's face it_, not known for his good looks or attractive physique. Not now. Not ever. Just then, however, Severus saw the look on Harry's face and he realized that he was wrong. One person thought him beautiful and that person was all that mattered. For that one person was his mate. His soulmate.

Harry now looked up at him almost questioningly before gazing back down on Severus's engorged member. His tongue flicked out, wetting his lips on a thought, and that unconscious little gesture alone was almost enough to drive Severus over the edge. He was hard as a rock now, almost painfully so, and was about to open his mouth to speak,

_- Please! -_

when, without further ado, Harry leaned forward and brushed the tip of his tongue over the head of Severus's cock. Probing. Tasting. Savoring.

Mesmerized and unbelieving, Severus watched Harry as he slowly ran his tongue up the entire length of the pulsing erection in front of him, eventually reached the white drop that had formed on its tip and - almost curiously – lapped it up.

Somebody moaned.

With some delay Severus realized it was him.

His entire body tensed when he finally slid into Harry's mouth – so warm, so irresistible – before semi-relaxing into a state of rapture. Instinctively the young man began to suck him and Severus's back arched when the he felt himself sliding against the slick sides of Harry's hollowing mouth. He gasped when a playful tongue twirled around the head and could not stop his fingers from entangling in Harry's unruly black hair. A small hum escaped Harry's throat then, tingling against Severus's cock, and that distinct noise of pleasure more than anything, sent a shiver down his spine. He was going to come. And soon.

Whether Harry sensed this or whether he was getting increasingly excited himself, Severus couldn't distinguish, unable to think but one clear thought as Harry began to move up and down his weeping cock faster and faster.

'Harry!' Severus gasped and then (in an attempt to prove to Harry just how articulate he could be) forced himself to add: 'I'm going to…!'

Again, Harry made a little noise just behind the tip of Severus's violently throbbing cock; something between a mewl and a whimper that could not be interpreted in any other way than encouragement. Contentment.

Lust.

Soon after, the lust that was pumping through Severus's own body found its bittersweet release. The teacher's hips bucked and he only _just_ had enough sense to ease his grip on Harry head, enabling the boy to pull back a little when the first pulse hit his palate. It was reflex rather than want that caused Harry to swallow down this first string of semen, but the surprise did not cause him to choke and Severus groaned loudly as he pulsated down Harry's throat.

At last his now flaccid member was released and the Gryffindor looked up at him. Green emerald eyes sparkled like stars as Harry bit his bottom lip almost sheepishly, yet unable to stop a grin from spreading on his face. He looked liked the proverbial cat and Severus felt his own mouth curl into a smile as well. Lazily.

Not too lazy, though.

Not nearly too lazy to somehow end up on the bed with his mate on top of him, beside him, underneath him – sheets flailing, limbs intertwining, hips grinding – and _never_ too lazy to rid Harry of his clothes. At last. But when his hand curled around Harry's erection the young man yelped, practically squirming at the touch. 'Sev,' he whimpered, 'Sev, I can't.'

He pushed Severus's hand away and for one fearful moment the Potions master suspected that Harry was afraid. He almost laughed when Harry revealed the real reason for his behavior, however.

'If you touch me, I'm going to come! Like, at _once_,' he confided, his voice stuck between desperation and laughter. 'I can't, I just can not …' Harry faltered, too embarrassed to admit to his inability to control himself under Severus's touch. 'I love you,' he concluded finally. 'And I want you. So much.'

He grinned a little. 'Right now, _too_ much,' he said. Blushing.

Severus felt an almost painful burst of love explode in his chest and placed a tender kiss on Harry's forehead, right next to that hideous, jagged scar that could not, _would not_, disfigure the face that bore it.

'There's no thing as "too much", Potter,' he smiled.

'I'll remind you next time you'll tell me to go easy on the hellbore in class,' Harry retorted – screwing up his face at the lameness of his own joke a second later – and Severus chuckled.

He kissed Harry tenderly before threatening: 'I might just have to give you detention for your cheek, Potter.'

'Oh, but you were not so unhappy with either one of my cheeks only a few minutes ago, Professor,' Harry returned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Momentarily stunned by this irresistibly lewd comeback, Severus felt his own brows arching in surprise.

'You're right,' he replied at last, 'which gives the term "detention" a whole new idea, of course, and all the more reason to give you some in the future. _Detention_, that is.'

He grinned and Harry laughed.

'Ugh! That coming from any other teacher than you,' he shuddered, 'and I'd be too grossed out to even _think_ the word detention.'

'Any other teacher suggesting such a thing to you would not live long enough to _see_ his next detention,' Severus smiled pleasantly. Not joking.

His hand sneaked between their torsos and, covering Harry's protests (never too convincing to begin with) with his mouth, Severus let it travel down south, where it curled itself around Harry's need.

_Still hard. For me._

Three, maybe four strokes later, Harry came. Trembling, he clung to Severus, burying his face in the crook of the other man's neck.

'I told you,' he mumbled. Then, 'Sorry. I'm sure I can do better than this. Someday.'

Severus pulled away to look at him. Smiling, he brushed a strand of black hair out of Harry's eyes before planting a small kiss on the tip of his nose.

'Well, we have the rest of our lives to practice, don't we?'

* * *

Draco was watching Harry Potter closely. 

The Gryffindor was still fast asleep and Draco wondered if he had stirred even once since falling asleep in Severus's arms last evening. He was lying on his stomach, with his cheek resting on his left hand, facing Draco, while his other arm was hanging loosely over the edge of the bed. For a minute or two Draco stood in front of it, studying the other boy's face thoughtfully. Then he shook his head almost pityingly.

'You're supposed to be our Savior!' he whispered. 'Yet you're utterly clueless. And you don't even have the most primal wizard instincts. Sense me already, Potter! I could be the Dark Lord. I could be a stark raving mad Death Eater. Or at least some weird Muggle wanting to rip your throat out. And you wouldn't even know, because you're sleeping like a baby. Sense me, come on! Wake up, Potter.'

Harry Potter did not oblige.

'Wake up, Potter!' Draco repeated, louder. 'WAKE UP!'

If it hadn't been for the even movement of Harry's shoulders, Draco probably would have worried. Now he merely grew bored. And so he climbed on the bed (Harry still didn't move) and began to jump up and down.

'WAKE UP ALREADY, YOU FUTILE, INFINITESIMAL, HOMELESS, POSSESSED-BY-THE-DARK-LORD, GOOD-FOR-NOTHING, FOOLISH, DENSE, IDIOTIC...,' he chanted in sync with each of his jumps (every one of which shook Harry rather violently), which finally woke but didn't seem to disturb the Gryffindor very much. Happily stretching and lolling his limbs, Harry buried his face inside the pillows and yawned heartily.

'...DYSFUNCTIONAL, UGLY, FOUR-EYED, MALNOURISHED, MUGGLE-RAISED...'

Slowly Harry's contented mewl turned into an exasperated groan.

'...TASTELESS, BRAINLESS, SENSELESS, USELESS…'

'SHUT UP, MALFOY!' Harry roared at last. He turned around and squinted up at his friend, who was still using the mattress as his trampoline.

'Have you lost your mind?' he friendly asked.

'Oh-ho!' Draco exclaimed. 'You're one to talk, Mister _Oops-I-think-Lord-Voldemort-is-trying-to-get-into-my-head_!'

He plopped down next to Harry and looked at him attentively. 'You alright?' he asked.

Harry grinned. 'Never felt any better in my entire life!' he confirmed empathically, but suddenly his smile extinguished. 'Draco, about yesterday...'

Draco stopped him by lightly punching a curled fist into his stomach, his aim surprisingly accurate despite the puffy blanket.

'Shut up, you ninny! I'm in no mood to see the Dark Lord jumping out of your head again.'

Harry grimaced. 'Do your parents know that you're here?' he asked, sitting up.

'Of course they do,' shrugged Draco. 'They're downstairs.'

'They are? They still? They didn't? But I!'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'It takes five of you to ruin our Christmas, Oliver Twist,' he smirked. 'What, did you think my parents would be afraid of you now?'

Harry blushed. 'No … yes … I don't know,' he mumbled. 'I just thought …'

'Stop feeling sorry for yourself, David Copperfield!' Draco ordered sternly. 'And now get up at last, you LAZY, SLEEPY, IDLE…'

'NOT AGAIN, EBENEEZER SCROOGE!' Harry yelled. He got out of bed and walked into the adjoining bathroom. 'What's with all the Dickens characters anyway?' he called out after a while.

'You read,' Draco stated, sounding almost as disappointed as he looked surprised. His mother had been intend on getting Harry a Charles Dickens Collection for Christmas and Draco had been intend on proving that such a treasure of Muggle art would be wasted on the Boy who devoured 'Flying with the Cannons'.

_Hmpfh. _

He got up as well and followed Harry, stopping short in front of the half open door. 'You're not naked, are you?'

'Not yet, sorry,' replied Harry dryly. 'But if you give me a moment…'

Draco stepped inside the bathroom. 'Witty,' he said, smirking at his friend whose reply was made unintelligible by the toothbrush he had just put into his mouth.

Draco stared at him.

'What are you doing, Potter?' he asked.

'Buffingmahteef,' the Gryffindor informed him. He spit into the sink and asked: 'What does it look like I'm doing?'

'Like you're being a complete Muggle, once again?' Draco offered. 'We haven't got all day, you know? Breakfast is waiting and so are my presents, and I'd be much obliged if you could behave like the wizard you are for once?'

Now it was Harry who stared at him. 'What are you talking about, behaving like a wizard? What am I supposed to do? Hex my teeth clean?'

'Congratulations!' Draco sighed. Rolling his eyes rather spectacularly, he pulled out his wand, pointed it at Harry's mouth and said: 'Munoris!'

A few spells and less than three minutes later, not only Harry's teeth were brushed, but he was magically showered, combed and dressed also.

'There,' Draco said, sounding very pleased with himself. 'Saves time, trouble … movement. Very ecological, too, not wasting a drop of water and all.'

Harry shook his head. 'This doesn't feel right,' he said. He raised his hands in front of his face and sniffed. 'Do you always do it like this?' he asked. His hands smelled nicely of fresh soap.

'Of course not,' replied Draco airily. He shoved Harry out of the bathroom and then out of the main door before adding: 'I'm not a slob!'

'HA HA!' Harry complained. Then he stopped, barely evading yet another push and shove by saying: 'Wait, the presents!'

'You have presents?' asked Draco happily.

'It's not much,' Harry quickly replied. 'It's definitely nothing as great as you have given me.'

'Ah!' Draco waved his hand dismissively. 'Rubbish! Every present is a great present! Okay, maybe not every present, but how do you Muggles always say? It's the thought that counts, right?'

He beamed at Harry. 'Well, what are you waiting for, Potter? Go get me my present, hurry up!'

But Harry hesitated. 'Erm … I have something for Se-Professor Snape as well. Do you think…? I mean, is it okay to give him something? Only, I don't want to seem like I'm trying to suck up. But he's been so kind to me and-'

He stopped himself, when he saw the look on Draco's face, and raised his hand in defeat. 'Alright, alright, I'll get them,' he said, walking back into his room. 'I'll be right back.'

'DON'T YOU FORGET MINE, NICHOLAS NICKLEBY!'

Draco laughed, when he heard Harry grunt in the affirmative and muttering '_You_ Muggles! What's that supposed to mean anyway? _You_ Muggles. I'm the freaking Golden Boy, thank you very much!'

'HEY, GOLDEN BOY!' he yelled, grinning. 'HURRY UP! THE FAMILY'S WAITING!'

_**To be continued**_

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**_EDITED:_**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE: _I feel compelled to add this AN after receiving an anonymous review by "I am stopping" that, I must admit, hurts me immensely, simplybecause the reader doesn't "trust" me with the plot and did not even give me a chance to know whom I've "lost" or to reply to them personally, which I would have loved to._ **

**_To everyone else who also feels disappointed that Sev got intimate with "future Harry" instead of the "his mate", please know that "future Harry" _IS_ his mate just like "present day Harry". They are the same person, only from different times!  
_****_If I have not made this clear enough, I am very sorry and please let me explain this again: Severus loves the "present day Harry" with all his heart, but he is NOT sexually attracted to him yet, simply because he is still a child. I have mentioned in an early chapter that soulmates won't be "hormonally" attracted to each other before both have reached the age of 16. _**

**_"Future Harry" is NOT the only one Sev cares about, far from it, but with him he already has a chance to ... well, see his and Harry's future. The future Harry shows clearly how much he loves Severus - and after all these years without him, how could he resist that? Again: "Future Harry" is his mate just like the "present day Harry" and therefore has every right to be loved by Severus, too. Plus, he wasn't aware of his time jump in any way. If you will continue to read the story (which I hope you will), you will find out that the events of that night were indeed a first for "future Harry" as well, so Severus did not "cheat" on the present Harry ;-). But r_****_est assured that I will wait with "the main course" until the present Harry is old enough._**

_**Please have some faith in me :-).**_

_**And don't be afraid to leave your name and/or email adress with your reviews. Thanks.**_

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	26. Changes

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**

**Disclaimer:**  
I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

**Author's Note:  
**I just wanted to say one more thing about last chapter and my added Author's Note. I am _so_ grateful for the more-than-kind responses I got. Your mind-blowing support of me and my story means more than you could ever imagine. THANK YOU!  
However, I must make one thing clear: I did not feel flamed by that particular reviewer. At all! If you read their review you will see that the person in question was never rude towards me in any way and I feel quite bad that many of you apparently got the idea. Rudeness I (probably) could have dealt with, i.e. ignored, but this was a reviewer who claimed to have loved my story for a long time and now felt too _sickened_ by Sev's morality (or lack thereof, I guess) to even finish the chapter, let alone the remainder of the story. And that, for me, was worse than just some random, rude flame. I was greatly startled and confused. However, thanks to you guys I can now shrug it off and say "Their loss, then!" ;-). And of course it's everybody's right to stop reading my story whenever they want. Just …I now think I don't necessarily want to know ;-).

Anyway, when more and more people kept saying "Aww, I wish Sev hadn't done this!" … I was baffled. And I figured this controversy (unexpected as it was to me) was the perfect moment to conjure up one of the new **forums**. So: If you have any questions, problems, suggestions whatsoever, feel free to drop by (see my profile for the link).

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Chapter 26  
'**Changes'**

He was a grown-up man.

He was a renowned teacher.

He was a cunning spy.

He was a former Death Eater.

Hell, to some people he was _still_ a Death Eater.

He was Severus Snape.

And he was blushing!

Blushing like a teenager. Blushing like a teenager while standing in front of another blushing teenager at this very moment. Blushing like a teenager thinking of doing very naughty things with said other teenager. One day soon. Last night.

And what the hell did _that_ make him? "Sevster The Molester"?

When he had his résumé about covered, Severus Snape was able concentrate on the thin and slender box that the teenager in question had just placed into his hands. 'This is for you, Professor,' Harry said, sitting down on the couch next to him. 'It's not magical, but I thought – I was hoping - you might like it.' He waved his hand and laughed. 'I don't know, it's really nothing special.'

'Gifts, Potter?' Severus asked, his gruff voice a stark contrast to the not-as-pale-as-usual color of his face, 'When the devil did you get those?'

'Not last night and definitely not this morning,' Draco piped up. 'Because the Boy who lived likes to sleep until...' - he made a show of bringing his wrist to his face and inspecting his watch closely, - '…three pm.'

_Harry. Sleeping. Bedroom. Last night. I should stop blushing._

'It wasn't even ten!' Harry protested underneath a grin before turning back to Severus. 'I bought them on a day when my aunt and uncle kindly allowed me to go outside for an hour or two,' he explained, making sure it all sounded like a joke and completely unaware that everyone around him already knew that it wasn't. 'I was going to send Hedwig over with them, but then ... I didn't have to.'

Severus felt the teenager's gaze linger on him. How conscious was Harry of what had taken place in Draco's room last evening? How much did he remember? Was he becoming suspicious?

But when Severus tried to retrieve some of the boy's thoughts and emotions without purposely entering his mind, all he could pick up was an immense feeling of gratitude and respect. Harry was _still_ unconscious to the fact that they were mates. The boy was only fifteen, however, and there was more than enough time. Severus wasn't worried. If anything, his last encounter with "Future Harry" had thoroughly assured him that destiny was on the right track.

Harry still beamed at his teacher - who _still_ forced himself to look away, suddenly unable to handle the way his heart seemed to expand every time he looked at the Gryffindor. Unable to _forget_ …

'This wasn't necessary, Potter!' he said. Brusquely.

'Yes, because we Slytherins love you anyway, Golden Boy,' Draco finally tweeted into the uncomfortable silence that had followed his godfather's words.

But Harry had stopped smiling.

His eyes were fixed on the Potions master and disappointment passed over his face like a cloud over the summer sky. 'Like I said, it's nothing special, sir,' he repeated uncertainly. He looked down on his nervous hands and added: 'It's quite stupid, in fact.'

This heartbreaking change of behavior very effectively pulled Severus's thoughts back into the Here and Now.

_Merlin curse you, Snape! _

He placed a hand on Harry's neck and gave it a teasing shake. 'That doesn't mean I don't appreciate it, Potter! But I'm sure it won't surprise you to hear that I'm not exactly used to receiving any presents from my students. At least none that don't explode in my face sooner or later.'

Promptly, he brought Harry's present next to his ear and shook it, looking very suspicious.

Harry laughed - and the cloud was gone.

'It won't explode,' he grinned. 'Gryffindor Honor.'

Severus's eyebrows arched comically, revealing quite clearly that this particular honor was not worth very much in _his_ book, _thankyouverymuch_. He was still shaking the small box dubiously.

'Gryffindor Honor, huh?' he said. 'Did those good-for-nothing twins sell this to you?'

'No!' Harry chuckled. 'I'm telling you, it's not even anything magic! It's ...'

'I _told_ you you're a Muggle, Potter!' Draco said triumphantly.

'Will you open it already, Severus!' said his father.

'Oh, alright,' the teacher replied, winking at Harry. 'But I want to hear no complains once my life is cut short by this …'

He removed first the ribbon and then the lid of the box.

'… this _pen_.'

He stared at the beautiful dark green fountain pen that lay embedded in black velvet. The golden nib was ornamentally engraved with a flourishing "S". A bigger version of the same letter was carved into the golden clip.

_Nothing special, my arse!_

Draco, who was sitting next to Harry, leaned over and interestedly peered into the box in his godfather's hands. 'Dear me!' he gasped. 'A pen, Severus! The deadliest Muggle weapon there _IS_!'

'The _deadliest_,' Harry confirmed solemnly.

Severus looked from one student to the other. 'I've got to say,' he told them prognostically, 'I always thought you two did well together during detention.'

Harry snickered.

'_You_ never let us have detention together,' Draco pointed out.

Harry nudged him. 'Don't sound so sorry about it or he will,' he scolded, an edge of mock panic in his voice.

Draco put his arm over Harry's shoulders and said: 'Potter, it's okay! You can stop pretending. Severus will understand that you just _love_ being in the Dungeons with me. Preferably alone and in the middle of the night, that is. That's nothing to be ashamed of! I'm a stunner, nobody blames you.'

He looked at Severus. Smirking.

'Oh, shut up, Malfoy!' Harry mumbled with glowing ears.

Severus held his godson's gaze.

'Anyway!' he said, clearing his throat. 'Thank you, Harry. Thank you very much! I never really understood the whole writing with a quill thing anyway, it's so last millennium.'

Harry laughed, delighted.

'I think my dad's jealous,' Draco told Harry in a loud enough whisper, winking at his father.

Lucius smiled benignly. 'Using a quill _is_ rather old-fashioned, I suppose.'

He turned around to his wife. 'Well, now that we've started passing on Muggle gifts, we might as well give Harry Potter _our_ present.'

Narcissa nodded. Smiling, she got up from her chair and picked up one of the presents that lay underneath the Christmas tree. 'This is for you, darling,' she said to Harry, who blushed quite brilliantly, although Severus wasn't sure if it was the result of being addressed as _darling_ by Narcissa Malfoy or by the fact that the Malfoys had a present for him and he didn't.

'Oh! But this wouldn't have been necessary,' Harry said.

Lucius Malfoy looked as though he very much would have liked to say something, but one look from his wife … and he remained quiet.

'I don't have anything for you,' continued Harry, clearly uncomfortable.

'And we didn't expect you to,' Narcissa said soothingly. 'After all you didn't have much notice, did you?'

She cast a meaningful glance at Severus, who opened his mouth … but then decided against speaking. Draco snickered softly.

'Open already, Martin Chuzzlewit!' he then ordered.

Amused, Harry looked at him and then back at the rather heavy present in his hands. 'If this doesn't have anything to do with Charles Dickens, I'll be damned.'

Shamefacedly, Draco looked at his mother who rolled her eyes at him. Lucius swatted him over the head. Harry, who saw this out of the corner of his eyes, giggled. Once he had unwrapped the beautiful leather-bound 'Best of Charles Dickens' collection, he looked at Narcissa with wide eyes. 'Oh wow!' he said happily. 'That's just … I _love_ Dickens.'

Narcissa smiled. 'I thought you would, Harry.'

'Because he loved to write about sorry little orphans!' Draco whispered into Harry's hear, so quietly that his mother couldn't hear. Placing a well-aimed shove of his elbow between Draco's rips, Harry beamed at Narcissa. 'Thank you _very_ much, Mrs. Malfoy! This is a wonderful present!' Then, a little more subdued: 'Thank you, Mister Malfoy.'

Many exchanged presents later, Severus left the living-room to return with an old and rather impressive looking, large book. Standing in front of Harry, he said: 'Well, this is my present for you, Potter. I'm sorry it's not wrapped, but unlike your new Dickens collection, this book refused to be confined.'

Harry gulped. He stood up quickly and took the book from his teacher's hands, bracing himself for its heavy weight – only to find it light as a feather. He sat back down and carefully placed the large volume on the table in front of him.

'Fighting the Dark Arts,' he read the title, imprinted in plain silver letters on the black leather, respectfully. His eyes promptly flew towards Lucius – a gesture, small as it was, that was answered with a bark of laughter by the Death Eater.

'Oh, I'd be _honored_ to be your sparring partner", Mister Potter,' he smirked.

Not knowing how to reply to that offer, Harry looked at his Potions master. 'Thank you, sir,' he said. 'I really appreciate it. I can really use this, too'

'No doubt you can,' Severus replied. He put a hand on Harry's shoulder and very quietly added: 'I'm sure your _army _will agree.'

Only for one short moment did Harry's face betray him by showing surprise. But then the teenager looked him straight in the eyes. 'What army?' he asked, shrugging demonstratively. 'I don't know what you're talking about, Professor.'

Severus smiled appreciatively.

'By George, she's got it!' Draco exclaimed, patting Harry's back patronizingly. 'We'll make a Malfoy out of you yet, Golden Boy.'

Harry grinned. 'You may think you're a stunner, Draco, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna marry you or something,' he mumbled rather embarrassedly, nudging the other boy once more.

'Oh, don't worry,' Draco replied calmly. 'I wouldn't _dare_ asking you to.'

He looked at his godfather and said 'Anyway, Potter, let's go for a little walk. I've got a little something for you that is not exactly meant for the eyes of any grown-ups. Teachers, specifically! And I bloody hell want MY present now!'

Laughing, Harry picked up a very small parcel from underneath the tree ('It's tiny,' Draco observed. 'This better be good, Golden Boy!') and followed the Slytherin outside.

* * *

The walked across the front lawn, leaving behind a trail of footsteps in the snow, and over to a wooden bench on the edge of the hill Snape Manor stood upon. Overlooking the long flight of stairs that lead the way down to the lake which separated the invisible Malfoy Estate from their Potions master's property, they sat down. 

'So,' Harry said after a while. 'You two know about "Dumbledore's Army"?'

'Yes,' Draco replied flatly.

'Is that why you were so angry with me? Not talking to me? Wiping off all my messages and never replying?' Harry asked quietly.

Draco looked at him. 'Why, you're smarter than I thought,' he smirked, but his silver eyes were serious.

'Yes, Potter, that's why I was angry and before you say anything else: I know I was unreasonable,' he admitted. 'I'm the one who always preaches to you about being secretive and making sure everybody still believes us to be arch-enemies, after all. But when I found out that you were going to teach those oafs DADA, I was …'

'Jealous,' Harry concluded.

Reluctantly, Draco nodded. 'I deserve to learn how to protect myself as much as they do. _At least_ as much!' he added defensively.

'OUCH!' he exclaimed a second later, glaring at Harry, who had just hit him -very matter-of-factly - over the head with a flat hand. 'What was that for?'

'For being such a sulking idiot?' Harry offered. 'All those times I wrote to you on the Tabulas Loquoram, literally _begging_ to you to talk to me? Do you know what I wanted to meet you for?'

'Because you missed me terribly.'

They grinned at each other and Harry shook his head. 'I did miss you, alright. Imbecile! But I wanted to ask you something, too.'

'To make out with you in the dungeons? Preferably alone and in the middle of the night?' Draco smirked.

Harry struggled not to blush. 'No,' he replied indignantly. 'I wanted to tell you about the DA. I wanted to ask you if you wanted to participate. You and possibly some other Slytherins you considered to be trustworthy.'

For a long time Draco didn't speak, but he didn't have to, because for the first time Harry was able to read in the young Slytherin's face – his emotions clearly written upon it.

'Thank you,' Draco said at last in a voice very unlike his own. Then, he cleared his throat.

'So!' he said, pointing at the small present in Harry's hands. 'What have you got there, Potter?'

'Well...!' Harry said importantly. 'I thought I could use this chance to, erm, educate you about Muggle technology, but after seeing your room last night …' He blushed slightly and Draco grinned.

'… your _true_ room, that is,' Harry continued, blushing some more, 'I doubt this will be much of a surprise for you. You probably have ten of these already.'

Draco's eyes narrowed in confusion. 'What is it?' he laughed. 'Nothing that will explode on _me_, I hope?'

Harry shrugged mysteriously. 'Only one way to find out,' he grinned and handed over the present.

'Not knowing how acquainted you were with Muggle technology, I doubted this present would make much sense,' he told Draco as the Slytherin began to unwrap his gift. 'But Hermione was certain you'd know how to make use of it.'

Draco froze mid-movement.

'Granger?' he asked. 'What … what's _she_ got to do with it?'

'Well, for one thing she helped me come up with a present in the first place,' Harry admitted. 'It's hard to think of something for the Boy Who Has Everything, you know?'

Draco still didn't move.

'And?' he asked.

Harry laughed. 'I'll tell you once you know what's inside!'

Mumbling incoherently, Draco continued to unwrap the present until a small, white cardboard-box appeared. Frowning suspiciously, he opened the lid on one side and pulled out the object that was inside.

'Do you know what this is?' Harry asked.

Draco started laughing. 'Do I know what this is? Of course I do! Harry, this is so cool!'

He put an arm around the Gryffindor's shoulders and briefly pulled him closer, before returning his attention to the small buttons and switches on the MP3-player in his hands. 'This is so cool,' he repeated. 'I always wanted to have one!'

Surprised by this unexpected display of delight, Harry smiled. 'Then why didn't you just get one?' he asked. 'I mean, you even have a DVD-player and stuff like that.'

'Yes, and I had to fight HARD to be allowed _stuff like that_,' Draco told Harry. 'Not because my parents don't approve of it, mind. But they are always afraid that it could …'

'…ruin our Muggle-hating reputation,' Harry continued the sentence along with him and Draco nodded.

'I don't understand, though. So you're allowed to have a TV, a stereo and all sorts of "big things", but not something as small as this?'

'Well, the size is exactly the point,' Draco smiled. 'My father knows that I'm not going to carry a TV around with me. Hence, less opportunity to get caught in the act by any Pureblood. But with something as small as an MP3-player, Lucius is afraid I'll get careless.'

'You mean, like forgetting you're even carrying one with you?'

'Exactly.' Draco grinned. 'I'm sure glad you didn't give it to me inside. It would be confiscated as soon as we're back home.'

'But Draco,' Harry said uncertainly, 'maybe your father has a point. I didn't even think of these things. I don't want to get you into trouble.'

'Ah!' Draco waved his hand dismissively before leaning sideways and bumping his shoulder against Harry's. 'Don't you worry your pretty little head, Emerald!'

'Emerald?' Harry squeaked in protest. 'You need to get a hobby, Malfoy. Like, _seriously_!'

Draco laughed. 'Shut up, Four-Eyes! Anyway, what were you saying about the Mudblood?'

'Don't call her that, Draco,' Harry scolded gently. 'Well, like I said, it was her idea to buy you one. She said you seemed the "music type", whatever that means.'

'What else?' Draco asked quietly.

'She bought it for me, too, because I'm …' Harry looked at his hands. 'I don't exactly know much about these things, to be honest.'

'You're as uneducated a Muggle as you are a wizard, aren't you, Potter?' Draco teased. Harry simply nodded in confirmation.

'Hermione even … _placed_ … a few songs on it,' he continued.

'Uploaded?' Draco corrected with a smile.

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Yeah, whatever,' he said. 'Anyway, she _uploaded_ a few songs of her own CDs that you might like, because I don't have any CDs nor a computer and I wasn't sure if you did. But Hermione said _you_ wouldn't need a computer _and_ she was almost certain you had your own CDs.'

'I should be offended, really.' Draco smiled, looking down at the MP3-player almost lovingly. 'A Mudblood knows me better than my best friend.'

Harry's eyes lit up at his last words, distracting him enough to forget scolding Draco for the use of the "M-word".

'How do you put, _upload_, music on it, then?' he asked. 'Without a computer, I mean?'

Draco tsked. 'Honestly, Potter! Will you _ever_ remember you're a wizard? Who needs computers when you have wand?'

'Oh,' Harry said. Embarrassed.

Draco laughed. 'Which reminds me!' he announced theatrically, 'I still haven't given you your present, Potter!'

'But you have!' Harry said. 'The clothes …'

Draco waved him off. 'That wasn't a gift, that was a necessity. Thinking about it, so is this present, really.'

He stuck a hand inside his black jacket and pulled out three wands.

'Choose one, Golden Boy!' he said.

'But I already-' Harry began to say before stopping himself. 'Let me guess,' he said warily. 'These are illegal ones, am I right?'

Draco nodded. 'Unused, unregistered and – most importantly – untraceable,' he said proudly. 'You're the Boy who lived, for crying out loud! It's a disgrace you're only allowed to do magic at school!'

Draco handed Harry the first wand to test.

'The way I see it, it's about time things changed.'

_**To be continued**_

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_**Author's Note:  
**Many thanks to "Jay Man1" who stated the obvious for me: People didn't have mp3-players in 1995 yet!  
I'm very embarrassed about this stupid mistake ... and I will re-write this chapter as soon as I find the time and make Harry give Draco a walkman or something ;-)._

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	27. In Too Deep

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**Disclaimer:**  
I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

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Chapter 27  
"**In Too Deep"**

Severus Snape buried his face in his hands. His fingers curled around his long black hair until his scalp prickled and he sighed deeply. For a while he sat like this before he straightened up again and picked up the letter that lay on the desk before him to read it once more. Afterwards he reached for a quill – stopped mid-movement, however, and picked up Harry's fountain pen instead; a small smile forming on his face – and scribbled down a reply, which he then tied to the waiting owl's leg. The patient grey post owl hooted a soft 'thank you' (or 'goodbye', Severus wasn't sure) and took off through the open window into the afternoon sky, where it soon disappeared.

Severus got up from his desk, put the letter in the breast pocket of his robes and stepped in front of the fireplace in his office, took a handful of Floo powder from the small bowl on the mantelpiece and threw it into the fire. Immediately the flames turned green and rose higher and higher until they were of the same height as the teacher, who then stepped into the fire.

'Lucius's office!' he called out – and disappeared.

Lucius Malfoy was sitting behind his own desk when Severus turned up in his fire place, working through a stack of papers as usual. 'Ah, Severus!' he greeted, looking up. 'How are you, my friend?'

Severus grunted some unintelligible reply.

'That well, yes?' Lucius smirked.

His eyebrows raised in surprise, when Severus held a letter under his nose. He took the parchment from his friend's hand and read it. Every now and then he snorted in mild contempt. 'Divination,' he sneered at some point. 'Well, it figures. He was never one the heaviest wands on the shelf.'

At last he leaned back in his chair, folded his arms across his chest and grinned up at the Potions master. 'A ménage á trois!' he said almost gleefully. 'Well, well, well! That's quite the dilemma you've got there, Severus Tobias Snape. What, pray tell, do you intend to do now?'

Severus breathed in deeply, trying not to be provoked by his friend's smug grin.

'First,' he replied calmly, 'I intend to ask you to give your son the permission to invite Harry over for a sleepover for the next two days.'

Lucius did not reply.

'Then, I intend to be a good host and offer an old friend in need a place to stay. Further, it is my intention to use those two days to talk said old friend out of this new job he's planning to take. You know, the usual: _the money's terrible and so are the children; house-elfs are useless…_'

'… and so is the Headmaster,' Lucius continued with the same nonchalance and got up from his chair. 'Very well,' he said. 'I'll tell Draco to invite Potter over.'

'Thank you, Lucius.'

Lucius waved his hand. 'The boy's here pretty much all day long already anyway,' he said gruffly and Severus had to hide a smile, knowing fully well that that Lucius Malfoy would never tolerate "the boy's" presence for a second longer than necessary if he was in any way bothered by it. He walked back to the fireplace, Lucius followed him. They watched the flames turn emerald green.

'I assume you don't want our dear Savior to know that his Potions master will be having _an old friend _over while he's away?' the Blonde grinned as Severus stepped into the fire.

The teacher scowled. 'I'd rather not!' he said curtly, while the green flames were blazing around him. Then his expression softened. 'Notify me immediately if there's anything out of the ordinary with him, will you? A change of behavior, maybe, or in case he falls ill.'

Lucius groaned. 'Are you sure you know what you're doing, Severus?'

'No,' Severus admitted. 'And so we'll just have to hope that Harry's not too far "into it" yet, for lack of better word,' he added.

'Into _you_, you mean,' Lucius muttered.

Severus nodded. 'Yes,' he said quietly. 'Or that. Keep an eye on him, will you?'

* * *

'_RUN, FAGGOTS, RUN! RUN TO YOUR MUMMIES!'_

_Barks of laughter echoed behind the two boys who fled down the stairs, more stumbling than running, deeper and deeper into the dungeons. At last they had put enough distance between themselves and the scathing insults and collapsed behind the statue of 'Nimbly the Great'. The taller, better looking one of them chuckled as he held a stitch in his sides, the laughter almost sounding like small sobs behind his panting breath. _

'_What idiots!' he gasped, grinning. 'Why exactly do you have a crush on Potter, if I may ask?'_

_But the other boy didn't answer. Limply, he leaned against the cold stone wall. His eyes were closed and he was breathing heavily, frantically. His long hair was damp with sweat, sticking to his face; the black tresses forming a peculiar contrast to his unhealthily pale skin. His long and scrawny limbs were trembling, still protesting against their sudden and unfamiliar overuse._

'_I don't,' he panted at last._

'_Sorry?'_

_The pale boy opened his eyes. 'I don't have a crush on Potter,' he elaborated._

_The other boy, who sat on his knees in front of him, grinned. 'Is that so?' he asked, wiping a strand of brown hair from his eyes. 'Well, I know why they are calling ME a faggot, but why are the Marauders after you, then?'_

'_Why are they calling you a faggot?' the dark-haired boy asked quietly._

'_I was making a move on Black,' his fellow Slytherin explained almost triumphantly. 'Interesting shade of violet his face turned into, I've got to say!'_

_The boy groaned, the mere thought of anyone hitting on Sirius Black (anyone male, that was) was enough to turn his own face purple. 'So are you really … it … then?' he asked._

'_It?'_

'_Yes, _it_. You know …' His voice trailed off into embarrassment._

'_Gay?' the other student offered._

_He nodded._

'_I sure am,' the poised Slytherin grinned. 'And judging by those crossed eyes you're always staring at James Potter with, I'd eat my broomstick if you aren't, too. You're in love with him, Snape!' he grinned, nudging the smaller boy teasingly._

'_I'm not staring at Potter because I love him!' the ash-faced teenager replied indignantly. He sat up and glared at the other boy who smirked._

'_I'm only looking at him to … to …'_

'_To?'_

'_To find out if I'm really gay or not,' Severus Snape lied. He was sure enough about his sexuality, but to say "to find out if we're soulmates or not" would have sounded even more pathetic, he reckoned. Besides, that was nobody else's business. His_ _mate – be it James Potter or not - was nobody else's business!_

_The other boy cocked his head to the side and looked at him thoughtfully. Severus felt himself blush underneath the scrutinizing gaze and silently cursed himself for this pitiable display of weakness. 'What?' he barked._

_The auburn-haired boy scooted closer. 'There are other ways to find out you're gay than staring holes into other boys, you know?' he said softly. He leaned forward, closer and closer, until Severus could see the few freckles that were hiding beneath the Quidditch tan._

'_What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?' he asked. Weakly. Suddenly aware of how dry his own mouth was. How coated his tongue. How chapped his lips._

'_I think I'm going to kiss you now,' the other boy said._

_And then he did just that._

* * *

Narcissa flung her arms around her husband's neck. 

'Thank you, darling,' she whispered into his ear. 'Thank you. Draco will be so excited!'

Lucius rolled his eyes, but smiled. 'You do know that you don't have me to thank to, but _William_, don't you?' he asked, pronouncing the name "William" with great loftiness.

Narcissa laughed. Then she kissed him. Slowly. Thoroughly.

'Oh, but you don't _really_ want me to thank him, do you?' she asked softly.

Lucius smirked. 'He's gay. Thank him all you like, woman.'

Narcissa shook her head with a half reproachful, half amused click of her tongue and released her husband out of her embrace. 'I'll go and tell the boys.'

'You do that,' Lucius sighed.

Then, he couldn't resist asking the question he had asked his wife at least a dozen times before, already knowing he would only receive the same unsatisfactory reply: 'Could somebody finally tell me just why my wife and son are so enamored with this underfed orphan wizard, please?'

Narcissa smiled. 'One day you'll find out,' she said, kissing his cheek one last time, and left the dining room.

'Right,' grimaced Lucius.

'I only hope Harry Potter will not find it necessary to _thank_ me, too,' he called after his wife before sitting down at the dinner table.

'LUCIUS!'

Lucius Malfoy grinned.

* * *

He bypassed the unnecessary risk of being pulled into a hug by not holding out a greeting hand at all. Instead Severus crossed both of his arms behind his back and merely nodded his welcome. 

'William,' he said.

If the man on his veranda was disappointed by this lack of enthusiasm, he didn't show it. His face broke into a smile. 'Severus Snape!' he exclaimed. 'Merlin be damned! You haven't changed at all!'

'_You_ have gained weight,' Severus pointed out.

William grinned. 'Charming as always! But thank you, Sev! For I know that what you're really saying is that I've become quite the Head-turner.'

'Well, it took you long enough, didn't it?'

Severus finally smiled. 'Good to see you, Will!' he said, stepping aside. 'Come on in!'

His friend picked up his two bags and slung them over his shoulder. Smiling, he followed Severus into the house, patting the other man's back as he did so. 'Ten years!' he said. 'It's been a long time, huh?'

'Quite long,' Severus agreed, leading the way towards the kitchen.

'Too long!' William said.

Severus didn't reply. He opened the kitchen door instead and they stepped inside.

'If a kitchen smells as good as this,' William stated, sniffing the air demonstratively, 'Priya Roshan can't be far!'

Priya abandoned the four boiling pots and pans on the stove to turn around. 'William!' she smiled. She wiped her hands on a towel and let herself be pulled into a hug by the younger man. 'How are you, my dear?' she asked.

'Hungry as always,' William laughed. He held her at arm's length to look at the Indian woman. 'It's been more than ten years since I last saw you, Priya' he said with amazement, 'and yet you haven't changed at all!'

Priya smiled.

'Don't be too flattered!' Severus grumbled, 'That's what he told _me_, too.'

William laughed. 'With you I was just trying to be polite, but with Priya it's really true. How old are you now, Priya?'

'Still old enough to be your mother.'

* * *

Harry sat on Draco's bed and watched the blonde teenager standing on the second mattress that lay on the floor between the bed and the desk. He was directing a pillow into its pillow case with his wand – and making quite a show of it, too, intentionally letting the pillow bump against his head and getting entangled in the sheets that he was simultaneously magicking out of his closet and onto what would be Harry's bed tonight. 

Harry laughed. He had seen Draco clowning around like this only once before and that had been on a rather old picture – a picture that was now safely stowed away in a hollow pendant around Hermione Granger's neck, if he was not mistaken.

'I don't know what your parents spiced _your_ dinner with, Malfoy,' Harry joked. 'But mine tasted _normal_.'

But it pleased him immensely that Draco felt comfortable enough around him to show a side of himself that no other Gryffindor would _ever_ get to see, that much was for sure. It touched him that Draco was so excited over the mere fact that Harry was going to sleep over tonight. Of course Harry could relate to it. Growing up with the Dursleys, he had never been allowed any sleepovers of his own either. Not because the Dursleys had been as protective as the Malfoys, naturally, but because … well … because he was who he was.

At last Harry's bed was fixed and they both sat down on it, facing each other.

'Are you alright?' Draco suddenly asked. 'You're pale. Paler than usual I mean.'

'No, I'm okay,' Harry said surprised.

Draco nodded. 'Well!' he said, beaming at the other teenager. 'What would you like to do now, Potter?'

Harry's mouth fell open.

'Did I just hear right?' he asked with exaggerated surprise, his eyes very round. 'Draco Malfoy is asking ME what I would LIKE to do?'

'You're right,' Draco replied loftily. 'Just because you're my guest today, doesn't mean you get any privileges. Lest you get ideas!'

He got up from Harry's mattress again. 'I'm bored, let's practice some spells. Up, Potter!'

'I don't want to,' Harry grinned. He wasn't going to break with tradition.

'Do I look like I care?' Draco shrugged. 'UP, UP!'

Harry groaned in rebellion and held up his hand. Draco pulled him up (mumbling something about Harry being a lazy and overweight Muggle) and then watched as Harry turned is backpack upside down and poured its contents all over his bed.

'Tell me you're not looking for your wand, Potter,' he said flatly.

'You're not looking for your wand, Potter,' replied Harry obediently.

'YOU GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!' Draco barked and Harry flinched, surprised at the unexpected outburst that did not sound like a tease this time.

'YOU'RE THE FUCKING BOY WHO LIVED AND YOU'RE STAYING AT A DEATH EATER'S HOUSE! WHY THE FUCK DON'T YOU HAVE YOUR WAND RIGHT AT HAND?'

Harry's ears turned pink.

'Sorry! I didn't know a wand would be so necessary staying at a_ friend's_ house,' he returned sharply, not meeting Draco's eyes. That wasn't the point, of course, but he could hardly tell Draco that being at Snape Manor tended to make him completely forget about Voldemort or Death Eaters … or death. Even after the Dark Lord had tried to enter his mind on Christmas Eve, Harry had not wasted much time to worry about his nemesis. But Draco was right. He _had_ to be more careful!

Draco's anger disappeared as quickly as it had flared up.

'Of course you don't _need_ your wand while you're here, Harry,' he said seriously. 'But … _Merlin_! You're Harry Potter! If anyone needs to have constant vigilance, it's you!'

'PAH!' Harry spat. 'Constant vigilance! I tell you what, I'm sick of being constantly vigilant! I'm on holidays, damn it.'

'Saviors don't have holidays, Golden Boy!'

'Savior!' Harry sneered. 'What are you talking about? Voldemort's _back_, isn't he?'

'He is,' Draco shrugged. 'For now, anyway. And now get your wand already, Potter. Before I turn forty, please.'

Harry sighed and turned back to the pile on Draco's bed.

'I can't find it,' he said miserably.

Draco pulled out a wand out from underneath Dickens's _Oliver Twist_. 'Look, here it is,' he said almost gently, but Harry shook his head. 'That's my old wand. Not the one you gave me.'

'Did you forget it at Sev's, maybe?'

Harry's eyes lit up. 'Yes! I put it under my pillow! See? Under my pillow, Draco! Ha!' he exclaimed jubilantly. 'I _was_ vigilant! Constantly!'

Draco rolled his eyes. 'Awesome, Mister _I-sleep-through-an-earthquake_, I'm proud of you!'

He shoved Harry towards the door. 'Go and get it then!'

But when Harry turned towards the staircase outside his bedroom, Draco held him back. 'Not on foot, you Muggle. My parents would have a fit if they knew you'd be running around outside after dark.'

'Yes, I can practically _hear_ the concern in your father's voice,' Harry smirked.

Draco ignored him – after boxing him on the shoulder. Instead, he led Harry to his father's empty office, where he threw some Floo powder into the fireplace. '_Snape Manor _and _Lucius's office_ will do the trick,' he explained. 'Hurry up, Four-eyes!'

* * *

Coughing, Harry patted some soot off his sweater. 

'I'll never be a proper wizard,' he mumbled. The only form of wizard transportation he felt truly comfortable with was a broomstick and he didn't see that changing any time soon. The suggestion of flying prompted something to tug at Harry's memory, but the feeling disappeared before a conscious thought could form in Harry's head, and he looked around.

He was in Professor Snape's office and it was empty.

Immediately, Harry felt like a student who was sneaking through Hogwarts' restricted areas after midnight. He tiptoed across the room - smiling fondly at the three cauldrons and the many colorful vials on a table in the middle, delighted by the sight of his pen lying on a piece of empty parchment on Snape's desk – and walked into the guestroom across the hallway.

As expected Harry found his illegal wand underneath the pillow. He pocketed it, when his gaze fell upon the large spell book that his teacher had given him for Christmas on the desk. He grinned. Draco wanted to practice spells?

_Alright, then._

He picked up the book, too, and left his room again. In the hallway he noticed the enticing smells that drifted up from the kitchen below. He breathed in deeply and opened the office door again … when he heard Professor Snape's voice downstairs.

_Might as well go down and ask Priya for some of her chocolate cookies before I leave._

Harry jumped down the stairs and turned left, aiming for the kitchen door. Smiling, he knocked briefly before entering the room. Priya was standing in front of the table, serving dinner to two men, who turned around at the sound of Harry's entrance. One of them was Severus, the other one was …

Harry felt the smile freeze on his face.

'Harry!' Snape said and started to get up, but the other man was faster.

'Well, if this isn't James Potter's son!' he exclaimed, extending his hand with a bright smile. 'What a pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter.'

Harry took his hand. 'Good evening,' he said, his voice sounding like that of a stranger to his own ears.

'I've heard a lot about you,' the man said, still shaking Harry's hand in both of his own. 'But who didn't?'

His eyes did the familiar search for the lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead.

'Potter, this is …' Snape began, but again, the other man was faster.

'William,' he smiled (Harry didn't see Severus rolling his eyes at the deliberate use of first name only). 'Like I said, nice to meet you, Harry.'

Harry pulled his hand away.

'I only came back to get this,' he told Professor Snape, briefly waving the book in his hand. 'We want to practice some spells.'

'Making your students practice even during the Christmas holidays?' William asked Severus. He put a hand on the other man's shoulder and grinned at him.

The little hairs on the back of Harry's neck rose.

'Well, anyway, I'm going back,' he quickly told Priya, looking anywhere but … _Stop touching him!_ … at the hand that still rested on his Potions teacher. 'Bye, Priya! Bye, Professor.'

Severus Snape took a step forward and William's hand fell off his shoulder.

'I'll see you later, Potter,' he said, looking at Harry closely. 'Have fun.'

'You too!' replied Harry, too eager to leave to be embarrassed by the accusation that his words carried with them.

'Bye, Harry!' William smiled.

'Goodbye, Mr Copley,' Harry said stiffly.

Then, he bolted.

William sat back down at the table, completely unaware of what had just happened. 'Well, what do you say?' he said, rubbing his hands expectantly. 'I'd say, let's eat.'

He looked up at Priya, who didn't say anything, and then followed her gaze towards Severus, who still stood unmoving and staring at the kitchen door.

'Sev?' he asked.

Priya did not have to ask to know what was on the teacher's mind. Harry knew William's last name even though nobody had told him. He knew William!

She took a cookie jar from the shelf behind her and handed it to Severus.

'Go,' she said.

* * *

'Everything okay? You look like you've just spotted a troll,' Draco asked, jumping off his father's desk, when Harry stepped out of the fireplace. 

'Well, maybe I have,' Harry coughed.

'Let's go,' he said simply, pulling the surprised Slytherin out of the office and into his own room, unconsciously wanting to put as much distance as possible between him and the man he had recognized from the old yearbook picture that he carried in his wallet.

_William Copley, Severus Snape's ex-boyfriend!_

It all seemed too convenient to be a coincidence: Lucius Malfoy inviting him over for a sleepover on exactly the same night William Copley happened to drop by at Snape Manor for sleepover of his own, Harry thought bitterly.

Promptly, his stomach lurched towards his throat.

He coughed it back down.

'Alright,' Draco announced, patting Harry's back. 'No Floo for you again, Potter, you inept-'

'Shut up!' Harry snarled, shoving the spell book against Draco's chest. 'You wanna practice, Malfoy?'

He whipped out his wand and raised it, breathing through clenched teeth. 'Let's practice!'

Draco's brows furrowed. Slowly he put the book aside and took out his own wand, positioning himself on the other side of the room. Reluctantly, he raised his wand. 'If you hurt me, you're dead,' he threatened weakly.

Harry snorted.

Draco decided he didn't like the sound at all.

Harry pulled up his outstretched wand hand, getting ready to attack. His eyes sparkled angrily when he opened his mouth to release the first spell.

'I'm not the troll, you know?' Draco reminded him quickly.

At that, Harry dropped his hand. Draco almost sighed when the tip of the other wizard's wand pointed towards the floor instead of his chest. He relaxed, too, when he saw the tension leaving his friend's body. 'What the …?' he murmured.

Suddenly, the door opened.

'Knock, knock,' somebody said.

'Uncle Sev!' Draco exclaimed, relieved by the sight of his godfather, quickly jumping over Harry's mattress and hurrying towards the door. Once he had reached their teacher, however, he faltered.

_How old are you, Malfoy, five?_

'What … uh … can we do for you?' he stammered, but Severus seemed to take no notice of his embarrassment.

'Are you boys alright?' he asked. His eyes were fixed on Harry.

'Uh-huh,' Draco nodded.

_To think that Harry would have hurt me. Really, now!_

'Sure,' Harry shrugged, looking down at the wand that was twirling between his fingers.

'I think you forgot something in our kitchen,' Severus said gently.

Harry's head jerked up again.

'_What, my manners?' _he thought, _glaring_ at the teacher. Suspiciously.

Draco saw the jar in his godfather's hands first.

'Cookies!' he grinned. 'Good thinking, Potter!'

He reached out for the cookie jar, but the Potions master stepped towards Harry and out of his reach. Severus screwed off the lid, took out a cookie and presented it to the Gryffindor.

'New recipe,' he said. 'Priya asked me _specifically_ to let you try first.'

Automatically, Harry's eyes flew towards Draco whose pout finally made him smile.

'Thank you,' he said quietly, took the cookie from Severus's hand and took a small bite from it, chewing carefully.

'Spectacular!' he said at last and finally the smile reached his eyes, too. He popped the rest of the cookie into his mouth and grinned. 'Tell Priya I love them, okay?'

'Okay,' Severus smiled back. He held out the cookie jar and when Harry took it, he held on to one of the boy's hands.

'Remember what I told you,' he said. 'I want you to come to me as soon as something's wrong.'

Harry looked away, squirming. 'You have a visitor, Professor,' he said. 'I think I'd rather not come back over to tell you that _Voldemort_ is in my head.'

Severus put a hand on his shoulder. 'That won't happen, I'm sure,' he said, his voice steady. 'But even so, I want you to remember that my door is always open, Harry.'

Harry blushed. 'Thank you, Professor. I'll … keep that in mind.'

'You do that,' Severus nodded and swept from the room.

'What was that all about?' Draco asked, taking the jar from Harry's hands and helping himself to some cookies. 'A visitor? What visitor?'

'William Copley,' Harry said flatly. 'Your godfather's Ex.'

Draco gaped at him. 'Ach!' he said at last. 'You don't say. What's he look like?'

'Hmpfh,' Harry sneered. 'Like Jude Law? Only older?' he offered.

'Ach!' Draco said again. He plopped down on Harry's mattress and patted the empty space next to him. 'Sit,' he said.

Harry sighed and sat down next to his friend.

'Do you think Jude Law's good-looking, then?' Draco asked interestedly.

Harry shrugged. 'I guess,' he said reluctantly, taking the cookie jar from Draco hands.

'Do you think William Copley is good-looking?'

'No!' Harry exclaimed with indignation.

'Do you think Severus is good-looking?' Draco asked, retrieving the cookie jar from Harry and placing it on his own lap.

Harry didn't say anything.

'Do you?' Draco insisted, looking at the Gryffindor.

Harry knew that he was a poor liar (and so did Draco, for that matter) and so he didn't even bother to pretend. 'Yes,' he said quietly. 'I think so.'

Draco nodded, unsurprised.

'And do you have a crush on him?'

A piece of Priya's chocolate cookies got lost in Harry's windpipe and he coughed. Calmly, Draco patted him on the back.

'Do you?' he asked.

'Draco!' Harry yelped.

'Do you?'

'I'm not going to answer that question!' Harry protested.

'So you do?'

'Draco … I …! No …!'

'So you don't?'

'No, I … I mean …' Frustrated, Harry threw his hands in the air. 'Alright, I do! Okay, Malfoy? Yes, I'm gay and yes, I'm in love with our Potions master. Happy now?'

He glared at Draco.

Draco Malfoy popped another cookie in his mouth.

'Peachy!' he said, grinning.

* * *

Severus was hovering over one of his simmering cauldrons when he heard a knock on his door. For a fleeting moment he worried about Harry's safety, but after he mentally scanned the person standing outside his office, he realized that the person outside was neither Harry nor one of the Malfoys. 

'Come in, William,' he said, stifling a sigh.

It wasn't that he didn't appreciate seeing his old friend again after all these years, but William Copley's timing was … simply not the best. Harry was maturing. He had already developed a crush on him and very soon now would he realize they were bonded. Severus knew that Harry's behavior in the kitchen had been more than the reaction of a sulking teenager. Harry's body, sensing the connection between William and Severus; the past they shared, already viewed the presence of William Copley near his mate (and especially the body contact, when the other man had touched Severus's shoulder however innocently) as an invasion of territory. The fact that Harry somehow already KNEW who William Copley was, had only strengthened that feeling and thusly the boy's aversion. Severus guessed that Sirius Black had mentioned "Snivellus and his gay friend" to Harry before and he silently cursed the fugitive.

The door opened and William Copley stuck in his head.

'Can I come in?' he asked.

'Of course,' replied Severus, adding powdered mandrake roots to the smelly, green fluid that hissed and then started to bubble violently. William watched him, his face screwed up in disgust. Severus grinned.

'So,' he said, carefully replacing the lid on the cauldron and lowering the flame below. 'You're going to be Hogwarts' next Divination teacher?'

William held up his hands in defeat. 'Don't even start!' he said. 'I'm well aware that Divination is not considered an art worthy enough to teach by many. Or to be taught, for that matter. And by _many_, you know that I really mean you and your friends. What did Lucius Malfoy always say? _'The dumbest of wizards can always be a Divination teacher_._'_.'

They sat down in the two armchairs in front of the fireplace.

'That's not quite true,' Severus said slowly. 'But we both know that most fraud wizards can be found in this particular branch of magic. A true Seer, however, holds a lot of power in his hands. Or his crystal ball, his teacup, wherever.'

William laughed.

'A true Seer has the power to ruin people's lives, Will,' Severus said.

'And the power to enrich their lives,' his friend argued. 'To save them!'

'Divination can not be taught, William. Either you have the Second Sight or you don't.'

'What are you telling me?'

'I'm telling you that I want you to owl Dumbledore that you're not taking the post after all.'

William Copley was stunned.

'Why am I even surprised?' he asked finally. 'You were never one to beat around the bush.'

Severus looked at him, the question unasked between them.

William shook his head. 'I'm sorry, Sev, but I won't do that. I can't wait to return to Hogwarts! Dumbledore offering this post to me is the best thing that has happened to me ever since …'

He didn't finish his sentence. 'I was hoping you'd be at least a _little_ happy to see me,' he said bitterly instead.

'I am,' Severus said gently. 'A little,' he added as an afterthought.

William smiled.

'Your dislike for Seers is not the reason why you don't want me at Hogwarts, is it?' he asked after a while.

'No,' Severus said simply. 'Of course not.'

'And will you tell me the real reason?'

Severus didn't reply.

'Does it have anything to do with that good-looking, raven-haired lodger of yours?' William Copley asked, studying his old lover's face closely.

But Severus Snape's face was void of all emotions. 'That _lodger_ is a student of mine,' he said, calmly returning William's gaze. 'A student who happens to need a place to stay. Just like you.'

'A student, who happens to be the late James Potter's son,' William Copley replied. 'James Potter, whom – if I remember correctly – you thought to be your _soulmate_.'

Severus continued to look at him unblinkingly.

'But James Potter was never your soulmate, was he?' William asked, getting up from his chair. 'You never loved James. Just like you never truly loved me.'

Severus got up as well.

'Will,' he sighed, but William Copley put a finger against his lips. It was all Severus could do not to flinch at the once so familiar touch.

'Shhh!' William said. 'It's okay, I'm not bearing a grudge.'

He pressed a small kiss on Severus's lips. 'Goodnight, Sev,' he said and left.

A few miles from them, Harry Potter dropped his wand and raced past a stunned Draco, who had just been getting ready to cast a new disarming spell, and into the bathroom, where he vomited into the Malfoy's toilet. Violently.

'Wow!' Draco remarked interestedly, walking in behind Harry. 'And what did they spice _your_ dinner with?'

_**To be continued**_


	28. Prelude

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

**Authors' Note:  
**In case you have any questions that you don't want to ask in a review, why don't you just try the Forum?  
_:a shameless plug hidden in an even more shameless hint:_

* * *

Chapter 28  
"**Prelude"**

'Potter?'

'Harry?'

'POTTER!'

'I'm asleep, Malfoy!'

The light flickers on and Draco Malfoy leans over the rim of his bed and peers down to the mattress on the floor, where Harry is squinting up at him, ash-faced and cranky.

'You're not sleeping,' Draco observes.

'Because you won't let me.'

'No, because you're still feeling sick.'

Harry puts a hand over his eyes, palm upwards, shielding his eyes from the light. And from Draco's scrutinizing gaze. 'I'm not sick,' he says.

Draco sighs in his best 'Why am I even putting up with this inferior Gryffindor?' manner. 'You stumbled into the bathroom again less than five minutes ago, Potter,' he says, 'where you probably puked your guts out. Again.'

'I had to pee,' Harry lies flatly.

'For the third time in one hour,' Draco returns in the same tone of voice.

'I did not puke,' Harry says. It's true.

'But you thought you would. You probably _wanted_ to.'

That is true also.

'I am not sick,' Harry insists.

There is a pause and then Draco quietly says: "True, Potter, you're not sick. But you _feel_ sick.'

'No, I don't. I'm fine. _Peachy_.'

'Okay, Potter!' Harry hears Draco push his blanket aside and he peers out from underneath his hand to see the Slytherin swinging his legs over the bed and then leaning forward until his elbows touch his knees. He folds his hands as if he's about to say a prayer, but his two index fingers point at Harry. Pointedly.

'_Uh-oh,'_ Harry thinks. Everything about Draco's posture suggests "I'm not going to be lied to any longer, mate!" and when Draco announces 'Here's the deal!' Harry knows that it is true.

Lies won't do.

'The deal is,' Draco repeats, 'you will start being honest with me and I won't tell my father you're still being sick.'

'Your father?' Harry asks, sitting up quickly. 'Why the hell would you do that? I'm not a child anymore. And neither are you, Malfoy!'

'My father who will, I'm sure, immediately report the state of your health to Hogwarts' resident Potions master, i.e. my godfather, i.e. the man you _love_,' nods Draco, unfazed, rolling and stretching out the last word so mockingly that Harry feels compelled to take his pillow and hit it over the Slytherin's head.

'And why, pray tell, would your dad do _that_?' he asks afterwards, putting the pillow back in its place and hitting it into shape grumpily, but not lying back down. 'I mean, why do you even care? Any of you? You're all Slytherins. You're supposed to hate me, remember?'

'See, Potter, and here's the thing,' Draco says amiably. 'Not too long ago, all three of us did just that. Hate you, I mean. Without pretending, even, and it was fun. Me, I hated you, because ...'

He falters. _'… I thought you had lied to me back then,'_ he thinks, but doesn't say it out loud.

'Because I chose Ron over you in our first year?' Harry asks.

'Yes,' Draco nods. He grins impishly and adds: 'Although that does sound kind of funny … what, with you being gay and all.'

He winks at Harry who merely rolls his eyes.

'Anyways! My father hated you for many reasons,' Draco continues, smirking. 'You were a Gryffindor, you were James Potter's son, you repeatedly defied various Killing Curses ('I'm truly sorry,' Harry throws in, dryly), you cheated him of a house-elf, you became the youngest Seeker in a century instead of _me_ … do I need to go on?' he asks dramatically. 'This is becoming painful.'

Harry smiles crookedly. 'No, I'm getting the idea,' he says. He looks down at his hands, knowing that Draco's list is not over yet.

As if on cue Draco goes on: 'Severus hated you because of your pedigree, I suppose. Your dad and your dogfather were not exactly members of the Severus Snape fanclub, if I'm not mistaken. And because it's what's he does, he walks around hating people. Being pissed off at the world is his job. Well, at least it _was_.'

'It's not anymore?' Harry asks, looking up.

'When was the last time you saw Severus Snape being pissed off with you, Potter?' asks Draco in return, watching Harry closely. He seems to choose his next words carefully. 'When was the last time you saw the angry, vile, bitter Potions master you've learned to hate already on your first day at Hogwarts?'

Harry thinks this over.

'I don't remember,' he says at last, his voice full of wonder.

'I'll tell you when Potter,' Draco replies. 'The last day of our fourth year, when we all returned home for the summer holidays, that was the last time _you_ saw him like that. And do you want to know when _I _saw him like that last?'

Again, Harry doesn't look at him when he replies 'Yes' almost breathlessly.

'The last time I saw my godfather being continuously angry at everyone and everything in a hundred mile radius was on the same day you walked into his kitchen for the very first time,' Draco informs him.

'Now you're being silly,' Harry says very quietly and still not looking at Draco, who ignores him and instead says: 'Incidentally, that's the same day we two managed to stay in the same room for more than thirty minutes without hexing each other.'

'We only didn't hex each other because we didn't want to be rude in front of Priya,' Harry reasons.

'That's probably true,' Draco shrugs. 'But what about the next day when we played Quidditch for the first time? We could have killed each other and we didn't.'

'You _did_ give me a black eye, though,' Harry returns, smiling reminiscently.

'That was an accident,' Draco replies. 'And I apologized.'

'You said _"Well, next time just don't fly into my elbow, Potter!'_. Fantastic apology, really!'

Draco grins. 'I had a point, didn't I? And I magicked your black eye away. I _healed_ you when I very well could have Crucio'd you.'

'Maybe you were just scared?'

Draco tuts. 'Of you? Oh, _pu-leez_!' He straightens up, looking at Harry solemnly. 'You _let_ me heal you, Potter,' he says. 'You trusted me. You _knew_ I wasn't going do anything stupid.'

'What's your point?' Harry asks, hoarsely.

'You trusted me just like you trusted Severus enough to come with him that day when he first came to get you from your aunt and uncle's house.'

'The point?' Harry demands again.

'If anyone would have told you half a year ago that one day you would live at Severus Snape's house – and without being kidnapped, too – and become Draco Malfoy's best friend, what would you have said?'

'I would have said nothing,' Harry sighs. 'I would have had them committed.'

'And yet you came with Severus that day,' Draco smiles. 'Why?'

'I didn't want them to take away my wand.'

Draco chuckles.

'Severus could have done just that, Potter, and you know it. Right before he presented you to the Dark Lord on a silver plate, that is.'

'But he didn't.'

'How could you be sure of that when you followed him?'

'I wasn't. I was actually worrying about Voldemort.'

'Oh, the worry must have eaten you up, I'm sure,' Draco replies sarcastically. 'Come off it, Potter, he didn't even have to _convince_ you!'

'I knew that Dumbledore trusted him.'

Draco snorts contemptuously. 'Dumbledore also trusted the Dementors enough to let them on Hogwarts grounds. You wouldn't follow _them_ home, would you?'

'What's your _point_?' Harry repeats more loudly, but Draco's on a roll.

'You came with my godfather because _YOU_ were the one who trusted him, not Dumbledore. Somehow you just _knew_ he wouldn't hurt you, didn't you? You also trusted Severus enough to tag along for our Christmas Dinner. A Christmas Dinner with my parents. My _father_! A Death Eater who, funnily enough, did not curse you into oblivion. Who did not call the other Death Eaters. Who did not inform the Dark Lord of a very good chance to catch the Golden Boy and get rid of him at last.'

'Yeah, well, maybe your father didn't want to ruin everybody's Christmas cheer,' Harry says. Crossly.

Draco yawns.

'Or maybe he didn't want to piss Severus off,' Harry offers as an afterthought. 'They are friends after all.'

Draco nods. 'Now that's more like it, isn't it?' he asks brightly. 'Ever since you got here, my dad's being more civil with you than I've ever seen him with anyone who's not a member of this family. He even allows you over for a sleepover, which reminds me: Severus is not here now. My father could do Merlin knows what with the one and only Harry Potter … but he doesn't. Instead he's watching you worriedly all evening as though he's afraid you might suddenly keel over and die or something. Then, after dinner, when you and my mum are in the kitchen, he holds me back and very firmly tells me to keep a good eye on you and inform him as soon as you show any signs of distress or illness, or else I'll get grounded until I'm fifty-eight.'

Harry's eyes widen in surprise.

'Well, maybe your father poisoned my dinner,' he grins lamely.

'Leave the jokes to me, Potter, you're not funny,' Draco snaps without real anger.

'Sorry.' Harry blushes. Draco waves him off.

'Anyway, then you go to get your wand from Sev's and when you come back you're practically green with anger, clearly _distressed_ over something and ready and willing to hex me senseless.'

Harry swallows.

'Shortly afterwards, Severus waltzes in here with a jar full of cookies, one of which he offers _specifically_ to you, asking us if we're alright.'

'Well, Priya asked him …'

'Honestly, Potter!' Draco rolls his eyes. 'Did Lupin not feed you enough chocolate in our third year for you to realize that chocolate isn't always _just_ chocolate? But then, you already felt better the second Sev stepped into the room, didn't you?'

'Well, yes. I _told_ you I have a crush on him,' replies Harry defensively. 'I like seeing him.'

Draco nods. 'Fair enough. And you were upset because you had just seen William Copley at his house.'

'Yes.'

'And why did you throw up?'

'What do I know? Maybe it _was_ food poisoning after all!'

'You mean like that one time when you fainted in the middle of the Great Hall?' Draco smiles.

Harry tenses.

'I have no idea what you're talking about, Malfoy,' he says quietly.

'Oh, but I think you do,' Draco replies in the same low voice. 'You and I both know it wasn't food poisoning that made you cringe and writhe in pain that evening. I thought it was a Crucio. And it turned out I was right. Well, sort of, anyway.'

Harry blanches.

'Because it wasn't _you_ who was being crucio'd,' Draco continues evenly. 'It was Severus.'

Harry flinches as though Draco just doused him in ice water.

'You're barking mad,' he finally manages to say.

'But he was,' Draco says in a tone that suggests he is merely talking about the weather. 'I asked him afterwards. Didn't you ever wonder why he missed the beginning of the new term? He was with the Dark Lord. It was Voldemort who hurt him that evening when you fainted. But you know that already, don't you? You _felt_ it.'

'So what if I did?' Harry whispers. 'I'm a _freak_. Everyone knows that! I'm connected to Voldemort, I saw him attacking Mr. Weasley. So maybe that's how I felt …'

Harry's voice threatens to break and so he stops talking.

'Yes, Golden Boy,' Draco says gently. 'You might have some twisted connection to the Dark Lord, but that's not the only one you're connected to. You and my godfather … you two share a bond, too, don't you? A bond about a hundred times stronger that the one between you and Voldemort.'

Harry jumps up quickly. He stands in the middle of Draco's room now, stock still, his fists clenched by his sides.

'What are you talking about?' he hisses. 'Your godfather and I share no bond, no connection, whatsoever.'

'Explain to me what happened when Voldemort tried to break into your mind on Christmas Eve, then.'

'Severus used this _Occlu_-stuff on me!'

'You don't use Occlumency on other people,' Draco informs him calmly. 'You use _Legilimency_ when you try to enter somebody's mind, like the Dark Lord tried with you. You use _Occlumency _to protect your mind against Legilimency. Your _own_ mind! You can not, however, protects somebody else's' mind with it.'

'Maybe your godfather is very good at Occlumency,' Harry tries.

Draco smiles. 'He is! He's the best there is, actually,' he agrees. 'But even Severus can't do what's impossible. Unless … you and him are close. Very close. _Extremely_ close.'

'He's been nice to me and so I've developed a childish, little crush on him and that's all there is to it,' Harry says business-like, but he's very white and his hands are still clenched into fists.

Draco gets up from his bed and walks over to Harry until they stand right in front of each other. 'It seems like that, doesn't it?' Draco asks kindly. 'You only have a crush and he's only being kind. But tell me, Potter. When have you last developed an infatuation with someone who's been nice to you? Or _anyone_, for that matter?'

'Never!' Harry snarls. 'I've never been in love before with anyone.'

'And now tell me, when was the last time you saw our dearest Potions master ever being nice to any of his students?' Draco grins and nonchalantly waves his hand. 'Me, I'm not counting.'

A shiver runs through Harry's body, but his jaw is set and for a moment Draco can actually hear the Gryffindor grinding his teeth.

'You're so full of shit, Malfoy!' Harry hisses at last.

'Why did you throw up tonight, Potter?' Draco asks again in return.

'I don't _know_!' Harry growls through clenched teeth.

'Did you vomit because you were still upset about Sev and his Ex?'

'Don't be ridiculous, Malfoy!'

Draco shakes his head and sighs. 'But what's with the attitude, Golden Boy? One might think you're so aggressive because you know I'm right.'

'I'm aggressive because you're being a fucking moron, Malfoy!'

'Stop calling me 'Malfoy' when we're at home,' Draco says abruptly and suddenly his face is somber. 'I don't like it.'

'You call me 'Potter' all the time,' Harry says incredulously.

'Yes, and I also call you a midget, four-eyes, Merlin knows what. I call a lot of people names without really meaning it. But you have this _tone_ when you call me by my last name, like you truly hate me.'

Harry replies with a single bark of laughter. 'How _spooky_!' he says sarcastically. 'Maybe that's because – right now – I really do.'

Satisfied he watches as - just for a moment - Draco's cockiness seems to ripple, but the Slytherin recomposes himself quickly. He steps closer and whispers:

'Have you ever heard of soulmate bonds before, Potter?'

'Don't,' Harry says simply.

'I thought so,' returns Draco. 'Do you have a soulmate, Harry Potter?'

'I said _don't_.'

'Do. You. Have. A. Soulmate.'

'Severus is _not_ him!'

Draco smirks. 'Want to bet on it?'

'What I want is for you to shut the fuck up,' Harry says tonelessly. He's trembling now. 'Severus is being kind to me. My soulmate hates my guts! He doesn't want anything to do with me. Sirius said so.'

Draco seems to consider this for a moment.

'Well, he would say that, wouldn't he?' he asks finally. 'He and your father hated Severus.'

'He wouldn't lie to me about something so important!'

'Maybe he didn't. We've already talked about this,' Draco continues nonchalantly. 'Severus _did_ hate you, up until the summer holidays and now look at you two! You turn fifteen and _whatdoyouknow_! Here you are, living with him under his roof in perfect harmony, all previous problems forgotten. You do know that a soulmate bond needs time to develop, right? He probably didn't even know until that summer. Although I'm beginning to wonder just how much he really ever hated you to begin with.'

'_You_ hated me until the summer! Suddenly you're nice to me and we're the best of friends. You said it yourself, I trust you just like I trust Severus,' Harry says angrily. 'What makes you think that he is my soulmate and not you, huh? Maybe you and I are soulmates and we don't know, because our bond is not strong enough yet.'

Draco laughs. Then, he leans forward. 'Let's find out, shall we?' he asks softly.

Their noses are almost touching.

Draco lifts a hand and Harry knows he's about to touch him - about to wipe a strand of hair from his forehead or stroke over his cheek or whatever it is people always do in movies before they're about to kiss. Draco is intent on winning his bet.

Harry intercepts Draco's touch by catching his wrist in his hand.

He holds it firmly. So firmly that Draco's eyes widen in surprise. There will probably be a bruise on the Slytherin's arm tomorrow, but Harry doesn't care.

'I like you very much, Draco,' he says and suddenly he's very calm, 'and I would hate to lose you as a friend. Do you happen to feel the same way about me, by any chance?'

'Yes!'

The raven-haired Gryffindor releases him.

'Then let's forget this conversation ever took place and go back to bed. Okay?' Harry smiles very brightly and suddenly Draco wants nothing more than to curl up in a ball and cry.

'Okay,' he says.

Without looking at each other, they lie down on their beds.

'Good-night, Draco,' says Harry.

'Good-night, Harry,' Draco replies.

And then he turns off the light.

_**To be continued**_


	29. New Year’s Eve

**

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**

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

**Authors' Note:  
**This chapter is terribly long and, again, terribly heavy on the dialogue, but I hope it will answer some of your questions.  
To anyone who worried (and didn't bother to check the forum, heh!), the lapse into present tense in the last chapter was done purposely and for … er … artistic reasons. It was not meant to be a permanent change.

* * *

Chapter 29  
"**New Year's Eve"**

Draco woke up the next morning with a feeling of loss; a feeling so profound that he took a moment for a mental inventory of his limbs, internal organs and family members.

_All there, none dead._

When he sat up, however, he saw Harry's empty bed. As the memories of last night unfolded, his stomach clenched before it was flooded with regret. Now, in broad daylight and in the solitude of his bedroom, last night's confidence was all but forgotten. Had he gone too far?

Harry had left without a word. He would probably never speak to him again and Severus? A coldness flooded Draco that had nothing to do with the temperature of the winter morning outside his window. What would Severus say?

It didn't matter anymore whether his soulmate theory was right or not. He just wanted his best friend back. And to not be stoned by Severus Snape would be nice too.

_If at all possible._

Draco got dressed and floo'd over to Snape Manor. Harry wasn't in his room. He hurried down into the kitchen and found Severus hunching over a cup of coffee. Not bothering with social niceties, Draco burst out: 'Is Harry here?'

'No,' Severus said calmly, 'he's having breakfast with your parents.'

Despite the relief of now knowing that Harry had not fled his home in the wee morning hours (which hopefully meant he didn't hate him too irreversibly much), Draco's heart sank down south. The unemotional voice of his godfather and the fact that he did not want to know why Draco didn't know about Harry's whereabouts himself, could only mean one thing: Severus knew about his little _disagreement_ with Harry already. He probably knew _everything _already.

Draco was still contemplating whether to simply deny everything or to confess being guilty as charged, when a man entered the kitchen.

'Good morning!' he greeted enthusiastically.

Draco immediately decided that he disliked the man. Whoever was this cheerful before 9 a.m. could not be a decent person, period. But then, he had a much better reason to dislike this person, of course.

'Draco Malfoy, isn't it?' the man smiled at him now. 'I'm William, an old friend of your godfather.'

Draco looked down on the outstretched hand in front of him for one provoking moment longer than would have been necessary. He didn't take it. Instead he treated the future Divination teacher to a first class Malfoy SneerTM. His eyebrows rose in indignation and his upper lip curled with contempt.

_This is all your fault. Arse._

'Would you mind?' he drawled. 'I need to speak to Severus. In private.'

Copley's smile faltered slightly. 'Erm … I'll be upstairs,' he told Severus and left.

Draco climbed on one of the high chairs in front of the counter whereas his godfather stood up. 'I hope you're not going to depend on a good Divination mark anytime soon, Junior,' he said calmly and filled Draco a cup of coffee before refilling his own mug.

'Divination?' snorted Draco. 'Why?'

Severus smirked, but did not answer the question. 'There was no need for you to be rude, Draco,' he said instead.

'There wouldn't have been,' Draco retorted, taking a sip from his coffee, 'if _you_ had been rude instead of me already yesterday.'

'Come again?'

'What's he doing here?' Draco asked heatedly. 'He has no business being here, Sev! Why did you even let him_ in_?'

'William Copley is an old friend of mine who gave up his flat and therefore needed a place to stay for two nights before he can start his new job.'

'And where's he going to stay then?' Draco sneered. 'Another ex-boyfriend, maybe?'

Severus's eyebrows rose ever so slightly. 'No. He's going to stay at Hogwarts.'

'WHAT? You're going to let him stay with you at _Hogwarts_, Sev? But you can't do that, he has to _leave_!'

'Don't be a fool,' Severus said curtly. 'Of course he's not going to stay with me. He'll have his own quarters. William Copley is the new Divination teacher.'

Draco stared at him, torpidly. He thought about Harry and how sick the Gryffindor had been last night. Did Severus not know? Did he not care? Had he been wrong about the bond after all?

'But what about Harry?' he asked.

'What about him?' Severus returned silkily.

'Severus, I _know_!' Draco said desperately.

'Know what?'

'About you and Harry!'

Still, Severus's face was perfectly blank. 'What about us?'

Draco roared in frustration and banged his flat hand on the counter.

'STOP IT!' he yelled. 'I've already had my fair share of denial yesterday! I hate it when you do this! I may have fucked up last night and I'm sorry about that, but stop acting like this, because I _know_! I figured out why you're going to be Harry's savior and I know why you were able to shield his mind from the Dark Lord. You're his soulmate! And don't you say _'No'_ now, Severus! You know that I know and I know that you know.'

His godfather smiled. Probably at his eloquence.

'Well … we did raise you to have a sharp mind, didn't we?' he asked amiably.

Draco sighed in relief.

_He admits it. Thank you, God!_

'Are you not surprised that I found out?' he asked.

Severus shook his head. 'After the Christmas incident I knew it was only a matter of time till you caught on. But even I must admit that I'm surprised by how _quickly_ this happened.'

He looked so proud and loving as he said this that Draco's guilt only seemed to quadruple.

'I told Harry,' he said quietly. Shame filled his eyes with tears and he quickly drank some coffee to swallow them back down. 'But you already know that, too, don't you?' he asked when he was sure enough that his voice wouldn't tremble.

Severus took a sip from his coffee, too, and then a deep breath.

'Yes, I do,' he said finally. 'You gave Harry quite the scare.'

'Did you _feel_ that?' Draco asked, amazed.

'Some of it,' his godfather nodded.

'Wow,' Draco said, looking deeply impressed. 'Did you also feel that Harry was sick, then? Because of this Copley person?' He didn't bother to keep the resentment out of his voice.

Severus peered into his coffee cup. He nodded.

'But why didn't you come over?' Draco frowned.

'He wasn't in danger, Draco. A little jealous, maybe, but not in danger.'

'A little jealous?' Draco asked. 'Sev, he _puked_!'

'What?' Severus asked sharply, looking back up at him.

Draco told him what had happened last evening. 'One second we're dueling, the next he's inspecting the inside of our toilet. What did you do around nine p.m., Sev?' he asked curiously. 'What happened that made Harry throw up so suddenly?

'Something that will _never_ happen again and that's all you need to know!' replied his godfather brusquely.

Draco gaped at him. Shocked.

'You made out with that …,' his expression filled with contempt, '… that Jude Law _doppelganger_, didn't you?'

'I did _not_ make out!' Severus huffed indignantly. 'He merely kissed me goodnight.'

'AND YOU LET HIM?' Draco looked scandalized. 'It made Harry sick, Uncle Sev! Literally sick to his stomach!'

'It was a single, tiny peck and it would have made me look very irrational – not to mention suspicious - if I had made a fuss about it,' Severus sighed irritably.

'One peck only, you say?' Draco asked. 'Why did Harry feel ill for so long, then?'

Severus frowned. 'He threw up more than once?' he asked apprehensively.

'Potter said no, and I think he was telling the truth,' Draco conceded. 'But still! For a while he practically camped inside the bathroom and he never looked all that good going in nor coming back out.'

Severus closed his eyes.

'He was thinking of you and Copley, wasn't he?' Draco asked carefully.

'Yes,' replied Severus grouchily. 'He was probably picturing us doing … Merlin knows what!'

At that, Draco couldn't help but chuckle.

'But did Harry _know_ that William Copley was kissing you? Did he _see_ it?' he asked.

Severus shook his head. 'I don't think so. My guess is that his subconscious was reacting to someone - William, obviously - being somewhere, where he had no business of being.'

'Wow.'

'If he really did see us,' Severus continued, 'he probably thought that was the result of his jealousy playing tricks on him.'

'And here I was, thinking that having a soulmate was the coolest thing!' Draco shook his head skeptically. 'But this doesn't sound like much fun at all.'

'I didn't realize how much Harry already feels for me,' Severus admitted.

'Why didn't you tell your father about Harry's sickness like you were supposed to?' he then asked, although they both knew that his anger was directed mainly at himself and not at Draco. Letting William Copley enter Snape Manor at this point in time had been careless, there was no way around it. 'Or why didn't you tell _me_ if you already knew what was going on?'

'I didn't want to embarrass Harry in front of father!' Draco defended himself. 'And I wanted to make sure that a soulmate bond was truly the "problem", er, for lack of better word. All I knew about soulmates was theory and so I wasn't sure if that was _really_ what's going on. But when Harry admitted that he was in love with you …'

Never before had Draco seen an equal expression on his godfather's face.

'He did?' was all Severus managed to say.

Draco smiled.

'Yes. After you brought us the cookies. Well, I kind of _helped_ him say it.' He cleared his throat. 'But it was obvious, really. He was so flustered after meeting Copley and two minutes later you come in and offer him a chocolate cookie. _Specifically_ for him. Really, Sev! Even a Blind would have been able to connect the dots, then.'

'How did you find out about soulmate bonds at all?' Severus asked. 'It not exactly something we teach you at school.'

'I once saw someone reading a book about the subject,' replied Draco off-handedly, not meeting Severus's eyes. 'He knows, Sev,' he said suddenly. 'Harry _knows_! He already knew that he has a soulmate and … I even think he already knows that it's you.'

Severus frowned.

'No, Draco, he doesn't. Not yet. You definitely got him thinking, but he doesn't _know_ yet. He's merely begun to ponder the possibility now.'

'Severus …' Draco hesitated. 'Harry _told_ me straight out that he has a mate. He knows this, because Sirius Black once told him that he has a soulmate who hates his guts.'

All color drained from Severus Snape's face.

'And Harry believes this soulmate is me?' he asked numbly. 'That can't be!'

_Congratulations, Albus!_

'No, he doesn't,' Draco admitted. 'He insisted it couldn't be you, because you are so kind to him. Apparently Black has told him that his mate doesn't want anything to do with him.'

Severus rubbed his face with both of his hands and for a moment Draco was struck by how old he looked.

'So what makes you think that Harry is lying; that he is aware of our bond already?' his godfather asked tiredly.

'Well,' Draco began hesitantly, 'his reactions to what I told him, for one thing. I mean, I practically spelled it out for him why you and him are bonded. If Potter had been truly oblivious, he would have just laughed at me or been embarrassed. If anything, he would have been surprised, but instead he just seemed so … scared. And angry. But mainly scared.'

Severus's eyes narrowed.

'You're afraid to tell me something, Draco. What is it?'

A glowing ball of embarrassment exploded in Draco's chest and flushed his face bright red.

_Damn friggin' Legilimency!_

Suddenly he was scared. He had read about the wrath of pissed off soulmates – invasion of territory and all that - and he _knew_ the kind of wrath his godfather was capable of.

'Did you try to provoke him?' Severus asked calmly.

'Actually, I was mainly trying to provoke _you_,' Draco confessed sheepishly. 'Into action.'

'I see,' Severus sighed, unsurprised. 'What did you do, Draco?'

'Iwasgonnakisshim!' Draco burst out and ducked, waiting for the blow … which didn't come.

'But you didn't,' Severus said instead. 'What happened?'

'Harry stopped me,' Draco muttered, pouring himself another cup of coffee. 'He said something along the lines of not wanting to lose me as a friend and if I felt the same way about him, I had better shut up and go back to bed already.'

Triumph spread across Severus's features.

Draco was relieved to see the smirk on his godfather's face (and about the fact that he didn't seem to plan on Avada Kedavra-ing him anytime soon), but the memory of last night still haunted him.

'The way he looked at me, Sev!' he said, rubbing the faint shadow on his wrist. 'He was so unlike himself. He smiled and spoke perfectly friendly, but he was all cold and emotionless. The perfect showcase Malfoy, in other words.'

Severus smiled. 'Is that so bad?'

Draco nodded gloomily.

'I know that we have to keep up the invincible act as long as the Dark Lord is still alive and I know that Harry is supposed to learn how to suppress his feelings and all, but I don't think I like him like that. I don't want him to become … like us. I prefer him being the irrational, midget Drama Queen that he is.'

'Draco,' Severus said gently. 'The older Harry gets, the more rapidly he becomes aware that he's bonded to somebody out there. It may not even be a conscious decision yet, but he'll do anything to prevent receiving his first kiss from anyone but that particular person. So you have to forgive him for being a little edgy. Harry was only being protective.'

'I wasn't going to hurt him!' Draco protested.

'Well, I'm going out on a limb here,' replied Severus dryly, 'but I think he was protecting you and me, Draco.'

Upon seeing the confusion on the teenager's face, he elaborated. 'Whether Harry knows who his soulmate is or not, he knew that stopping your kiss from happening would save his mate from pain – possibly even more pain than he had just been through.'

Draco, who had never meant to cause _anyone_ any pain, wasn't too happy with this explanation. 'Why even more pain?' he asked somewhat offended. 'What makes my kiss worse than Copley's?'

'Because although Harry was discomfited by William's kiss, he must have sensed that it meant nothing to me, whereas he obviously cares too much about you to …' Severus broke off, searching for the right words.

Draco grinned. 'To be impervious to my charisma, you mean?'

'Yes, brat.'

'You mean, even though Harry and I are not attracted to each other, a kiss would have been painful for you, because we're friends and care for each other?' Draco asked, fascinated.

'Generally yes. However, in our particular case things are a little different. You and I are practically family, Draco. I love you and I dare say I know you well enough to have realized your intention behind the kiss immediately. I would have been annoyed, maybe, but not heartbroken.'

'But Harry couldn't know this and so he stopped me.'

Severus nodded.

'And how exactly was he trying to protect _me_?'

'Imagine Harry's mate wasn't me, Draco! Imagine it was somebody who wouldn't have hesitated to rip your spine out after catching you kissing his mate - and as his very first kiss, at that!'

Draco, not seeing the humor twinkling in his godfather's eyes, paled and swallowed audibly.

'Harry Potter saved your life, young Slytherin, you should be thankful,' Severus continued solemnly and finally Draco realized that his godfather was exaggerating rather gleefully and he punched the teacher on the shoulder. Lightly.

'Ha, ha!' he complained.

'Seriously, though,' Severus said. 'I'm sure the books have taught you enough to know that messing with someone's soulmate _can_ be dangerous. And this is no joke, Draco. _I_ would never hurt you, of course, and I highly doubt that even some other mate would have dared to do you permanent damage if Harry had forbidden it, but don't ever do something like this again. Promise me.'

Draco nodded.

'No more hitting on other people's soulmates, however noble the cause. Check!' he mumbled, blushing.

'What did you think you were doing, anyway?' Severus asked, shaking his head somewhat amusedly. 'What exactly did you expect to happen?'

Draco finished the rest of his coffee first to save himself some time. 'I was hoping that you would sense the kiss,' he confessed at last.

'I didn't know my godson harbored a death wish.'

Draco writhed uncomfortably on his chair. 'I wasn't thinking all that far, to be honest. Or rather, I simply assumed you wouldn't be too mad at me. After all, I only wanted to help. I was hoping you'd come over to see what was going on and …'

'Drag you away from my mate, declare my undying love to Harry and fly off with him into the sunset?'

'That sounds about right,' Draco admitted. He stopped himself just in time and didn't add _'Plus, I was hoping to see some snogging, too,'_ but Severus seemed to have read his thoughts.

'Junior, I really expected you to be a little more sensible,' he sighed. 'What exactly do you think I'm going to do with a fifteen year old teenager?'

_Oh._

'But I thought you loved him?' Draco asked, taken aback. 'I thought age differences did not matter between soulmates.'

'Of course I love him! And sooner or later the age difference between Harry and me won't matter anymore, correct. But for now, he's a child and I'm a grown-up and that's all there is to our relationship. Not to mention the fact that I'm his teacher! If you had kissed him, I could have done nothing to make it right again, do you understand?'

'So you wouldn't have kissed him yourself to … to ….?'

'To claim him?' Severus helped with the terminology.

Draco nodded.

'Certainly not,' Severus replied very seriously. 'I'm no pedophile, Draco.'

'Pedophile?' Draco huffed. 'Of course you're not! But you're his soulmate! You love each other, how can that be wrong?'

'Be reasonable. He's not of age yet, you're teenagers!'

Draco didn't look too pleased. 'But does that mean that you …? I mean … don't you find him attractive yet?'

'I may be old, Draco, but I my eyes function perfectly well.'

Severus winked at his godson who laughed, mollified.

'So!' said Severus after a while. 'Will this conversation stay between you and me or do I have to obliviate you now?' He was only half-kidding.

'But are you not going to talk to Harry now?' Draco asked, wide-eyed. 'He has to know I was telling the truth yesterday! He _has_ to know that you're his soulmate, you need to tell him!'

Severus shook his head.

'It won't help neither him nor me if I'll just walk up to him and say _'So, Potter! Seems like you and I are meant for each other, huh?''_

'And how is _not_ telling him going to help any of you exactly?'

'This is something Harry has to come to terms with entirely on his own. You can't be _told_ you are bonded to someone, you have to realize if for yourself,' Severus said firmly. 'And he will, Draco, Harry will come to me once he's ready. But until then you will keep quiet about this, do we understand each other? You wrote down the numbers for him, but he has to do the math himself.'

Draco didn't like this development one bit.

'BUT!' he started to protest … when suddenly, his jaw dropped.

Severus followed his astonished gaze. There, on the opposite side of the kitchen counter, the air had begun to ripple as though propelled by a small, unfelt gust of wind.

Instantly, the memory was there again! Dread filled Severus's heart until it seemed an impossibility that it would be able to beat for much longer.

_'NO!'_ he thought. _'OH GOD, NO!'  
_  
Something flickered, seemed to materialize underneath the whirl of air like the picture of a badly tuned TV.

_PLEASE, DEAR GOD, NO!_

* * *

Ever so carefully, Severus took the Pensieve in both of his hands and lifted it from the shelf. He turned around, placed it on a dusty, discarded desk behind him and sat down in front of it. For minutes all he did was stare into the whitish substance, neither liquid nor gas, that was swirling inside the basin. Although Severus knew that the Pensieve contained one of his own memories, he remembered only vaguely what he had so desperately wanted to forget four years ago.

_But he knew it was something important. Something bad. A memory that he needed back now._

_A memory about Harry._

_When he felt he just couldn't put it off any longer, Severus leaned forward and plunged his face into the Pensieve …_

_A second later he found himself in his private dungeons at Hogwarts and looking at his own self sitting on the floor in front of the fireplace, drowning glass after glass alternately from a bottle of firewhisky courtesy of Albus Dumbledore and a pretty looking carafe of elf-made wine._

_It was a pathetic sight._

_Severus remembered. This was the night before Harry's very first arrival at Hogwarts, four years ago. He had been so agitated then; so full of self-loathing and, yes, terrified of the little First Year that was about to enter his life in only a few hours time._

_Plus, he had been drunk. Blissfully smashed._

_Suddenly, a patch of air next to his memory-self seemed to ripple and for a split second a young, dark-haired man could be seen. Harry!_

_Severus's insides turned ice-cold as the memory came rushing back to him even before it unfolded in front of his eyes. Hs younger self, however, merely shook his head in mild confusion before drowning yet another glass of the high-proof alcohol._

_A minute later, the same thing happened again. _

_The air next to Severus rippled almost unnoticeably before it began to solidify. The inebriated Potions master dropped his glass unceremoniously and stared as Harry Potter, barely out of his teens, appeared once more. He did not look completely solid, however, and Severus was able to see the bookshelves behind him shimmering through. When Harry spotted Severus sitting on the floor, his green eyes immediately spilled over with tears and his face screwed up in despair. He seemed to scream something at Severus, but not a sound could be heard. Then, he disappeared._

_Severus watched himself getting up from the floor, drawing his wand (swaying slightly as he did so) and pointing it at the exact spot, where Harry had appeared only seconds before._

_Both of them waited._

_Only seconds later a rock solid Harry Potter fell out of thin air and before his other self's feet. Shell-shocked, Severus watched as the boy scrambled up immediately, leaped forward and threw his arms around the Potions master's neck. The other Severus tried to shove the boy from him, but Harry was clinging to him with all his might, crying desperately._

'_SEVERUS!' he sobbed over and over again. 'Oh God, Sev! SEVERUS!'_

_At last Severus managed to pry the boy's arms from his neck. Roughly, he flung Harry from him._

_Harry staggered backwards and stumbled, but did not fall. Instead he lunged himself right back at Severus._

'_NO!' he wailed, hugging the teacher around the waist and holding on to him with surprising strength, burying his face inside Severus's robes. 'DON'T! PLEASE!' he wept. 'Don't let me go back! I need to stay here with you! I'll die if I go back, Sev! I AM GOING TO DIE WITHOUT YOU!'_

_With an expression of pure horror on his face, Severus attempted to push the boy away from him once more, when Harry suddenly let go on his own. _

'_Severus!' he sobbed, not bothering to wipe his tearstained face. 'YOU HAVE TO LISTEN! The night of Draco's eighteenth birthday, Sev! Why didn't you trust me? I have kept my promise that night. I've kept my promise! Oh God, please! Remember this! REMEMBER IT, SEVERUS!'_

_He clutched the fabric of the Potions master's robes and shook him, again with surprising strength. 'ARE YOU LISTENING?' he cried. _

'_DRACO'S EIGHTEENTH BIRTHDAY! I'VE KEPT MY PROMISE! I'M BEGGING YOU, PLEASE-'_

_Suddenly Harry's skin flickered. He looked down on himself and when he saw his body becoming transparent again in rapid speed, he began to weep so desperately that it tore Severus's heart in two, while his younger self only stared in shock._

'_I don't want to go back,' Harry whimpered. 'No, please! Without you, I'd rather be dead!'_

_Helplessly, he looked at Severus._

'_I love you!' he said … and then he was gone._

_For a long time the young Severus Snape stared into the nothingness Harry Potter had left him with. Then, he came back to his senses._

'_Oh no, you don't!' he growled. 'You're not going to love me and you're going to LIVE, Harry Potter! And you're not going to give a house-elf's ass about whether I'm there or not either, do you hear me? I'll make sure of that!'_

* * *

All of a sudden the commotion - almost unnoticeable to the unsuspecting eye - on the other side of the table stopped ... and there sat Harry Potter. 

Severus's ears were filled with the deafening noise of his frantic heartbeat. Usually Harry's future self simply turned up out of thin air. To actually see him materializing like this had, in the past, meant nothing good. Was everything okay?

Next to Severus Draco snapped out of his reverie. A delighted smile spread across the boy's face and he would have greeted the time-traveler enthusiastically, but Severus stopped him by grabbing him by the shoulder.

Surprised at the urgency of that touch, Draco looked at his godfather.

Severus was watching the future Harry intently. He didn't seem to be breathing.

Frowning, Draco looked back at Harry, who wasn't taking any notice of them and right in the process of bringing a fork to his mouth. He stopped mid-movement, however, when his gaze fell upon the empty cutlery in his hand. Severus saw the wedding band on Harry's ring finger. Future Harry's face curled into an expression of confusion and he looked down at the table.

_'What the …?'_ he mouthed silently.

Draco felt Severus relax.

Harry looked up at them. 'Draco, you imbe-,' he started, but stopped when his eyes did a double take on their appearance.

'Oh,' he said.

Then, crossly: 'You guys! I'm not the Amazing Genie, you know? I was _eating_, thank you very much!'

Severus and Draco gawked at him and Harry's face lit up into an impish grin. Chuckling he got up from his chair.

'Kidding!' he said, winking at them.

He walked over to the sink, washed his now useless fork and put it back with the rest of the silverware. 'What date is this, then?' he asked cheerfully, drying his hands on the kitchen towel.

Severus and Draco still stared at him.

Amused, Harry sighed. He looked first Draco, then Severus, straight into their eyes. A split second later Severus felt him enter his mind and effortlessly extract the information he was looking for.

'HEY!' Draco protested.

'Sorry,' Harry shrugged, grinnin, 'but I haven't got time to hang around all day.'

He walked up to Severus's chair, stood up on his toes and placed a kiss on Severus's temple. 'Hi!' he said softly.

'Hi,' Severus replied.

They smiled at each other.

Then Harry looked back at Draco. Laughing lightly, he walked over to the Slytherin, wrapped his arms around Draco's neck and pulled him into a very, very tight hug before pressing a resounding smack on his cheek.

Draco's pale face flushed pink. 'What on earth was that for, Potter?' he asked, rubbing his cheek in faux indignation.

'That,' Harry grinned, 'was for jump-starting the first day of the rest of my life last night! And for hitting on me, of course.'

'Err, _your_ last night, obviously,' he added hastily and looked at Severus with mock apprehension, before winking at the Potions master.

'Hmpfh!' replied Severus.

'So you don't hate me now?' Draco asked. The relief on his face was plain to see. 'We are still friends? Are we …?' He stopped, looking at Harry helplessly.

Harry's smile full of warmth. 'I haven't lied to you back then, okay?' he said softly.

Discreetly, Severus looked away as Draco's eyes began to fill with tears. Abruptly his godson got up from his chair and began to clean the coffee mugs off the table. Harry watched him fondly before turning around to Severus. He reached out and began to pick some non-existent lint off Severus's robes.

'You've got quite the smart godson, haven't you?' he asked with a smirk.

Severus turned around on his stool, caught Harry's hand in his and pulled the young man into his arms. Harry rested his head against his chest.

'One of us _has_ to have the brains in this family, Potter!' Draco piped up behind them.

Harry giggled, tightening his arms around Severus contentedly. The teacher dropped a kiss on top of his mate's head before deeply breathing in the vanilla cent of his hair.

'_Oh, to be able to fast-forward time,' _Severus thought, when suddenly Harry pulled back slightly, cocked his head to the side and looked up at the ceiling as if he was listening to something only he could hear. Then, he looked at Severus. And odd expression shadowed his face.

'Ah!' he said flatly. 'He's still here, then.'

'William?' Severus asked. 'Harry, he … I'm so sorry! But I can't risk him getting suspicious of us yet by sending him away one day early.'

'I see,' said Harry simply.

As so often, it was Draco who read between the lines.

'Harry said _still here_,' he argued importantly. 'That means he expected him to be gone already. Right, Potter? And that means Copley's going to leave today anyway whatever you do, Sev.'

Harry chuckled. 'You're a smart-arse, Malfoy, you know that?'

He looked up at Severus. 'Your godson is a smart-arse,' he informed the older man cheerily before resuming his previous position in Severus's arms.

'I'm right is what I am,' Draco said wisely.

'Always,' Harry agreed, winking at him.

But William Copley was the least of worries on Severus's mind. Now, with Harry being fully aware of his time-travel, was _the_ chance to ask him about the Pensieve memory that had been tormenting him for so long now.

'Harry, I need to talk to you,' he said quietly.

'About what?' Harry asked, smiling at Draco, who had sat back down next to him and Severus and now watched them with unconcealed curiosity; fascinated to finally see with his own eyes what had been not much more than a pretty good guess yesterday.

'About something you told me on one of your previous time-travels,' Severus replied. 'Or _future_ travels, I don't know. Draco, would you leave us, please?'

'WHAT? Why? No!' Draco cried out. 'That's not fair!'

But despite his protests he climbed off his chair. Harry, however, held him back.

'Stay, Draco,' he said. He stepped out of Severus's embrace and looked at the Potions master. The expression on his face was one of determination. 'No, Sev!' he said firmly. 'No questions about the future!'

'POTTER, LISTEN TO ME!' Severus exploded.

'No, Severus,' said Harry gently. Resolutely.

'HARRY, THIS MIGHT BE A MATTER OF LIFE AND DEATH! You need to-'

Severus stopped mid-sentence when the young man in front of him cupped his face in his hands and looked at him intently.

'Whatever happens happens, love!' said Harry. 'Even I can't cheat Death.' His face clouded. 'Trust me, I know, for I have tried. Many times.'

Irritably, Severus shook Harry's hands off him by jumping off his chair. He grabbed his young mate by the shoulders.

'If I tell you that this is quite possibly about _my_ death, then will you listen?' he snarled.

Harry blanched. Next to him, Draco made a noise as though he had been wounded.

'Severus!' Harry begged. 'You don't understand! It might be exactly your telling me that leads to whatever it is you want to tell me.'

'Merlin, Harry!' Draco whimpered. 'But you're the boy who lived! If anyone can cheat death, it's you. Severus's Death? _HARRY!_'

All strength seemed to leave the time-traveler. 'What happened?' Harry asked Severus tonelessly and defeated. 'What am I going to tell you on this time-travel?'

'Draco, I want you to leave!' Severus said sharply.

Looking immensely scared and protesting fiercely, Draco stalked towards the door, but Harry stopped him once more.

'WAIT!' he hissed. 'Copley's coming.'

Severus and Draco swore in unison. If William Copley walked into the kitchen now and saw older version of Harry Potter than the one he had met here yesterday, they would have to fabricate quite an interesting explanation.

'I fucking _hate_ doing this,' Harry complained. Then, he ducked behind the counter and out of sight. The door opened and William Copley walked inside.

'Oh,' he said, looking at Draco. 'I'm very sorry; I didn't know you were still here, Draco.'

Draco opened his mouth, a fitting (and rather rude) reply ready on his tongue, when he felt Harry swatting his leg as though he was trying to stop him.

'Aaaah!' came Harry's voice - though it sounded a little deeper than usual, almost as if he was having a cold - from the floor next. 'Here it is! Nasty little bugger!'

Harry straightened up.

Only now did Draco see that it wasn't Harry at all. Whereas Harry had raven black hair that often bore a startling resemblance to a crow's nest, this young man had wavy brown hair with not one curl out of place. Harry had a little snub nose; this man's nose was long and slender. If it hadn't been for the man's eyes, Draco probably would have questioned his own sanity. He didn't wear any glasses and was holding a hand in front of one of his eyes, but Draco could see that the other eye was startlingly green.

'Stupid contact lenses!' Harry laughed now. 'Oh, hello Mister…?'

He smiled apologetically and turned towards the sink, where he first pretended to wash the non-existent contact lens in his hand and then to pop it back into his left eye, his back turned towards them.

'Copley,' William said. 'William Copley. Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.'

'Oh, not to worry, not to worry,' Harry said pleasantly. He stretched out his hand and William shook it.

'Hello, William,' Harry smiled. 'I'm Nicholas,' he paused for the briefest of moments. 'Copperfield.'

Draco hid a grin at the double Dickens reference. He looked over at Severus who he could tell surveyed Harry with interest, despite the deadpan expression on his face.

It wasn't so much the fact that his young mate had just proved to be a highly talented Metamorphmagus that surprised Severus. It was the nonchalant cunning with which he had pulled off the "contact-lenses" trick to offer an explanation for his almost unnaturally green eyes, the only possible feature of his that could trigger Copley's suspicion. There had only ever been two people with eyes like this, after all. And one of them was dead. It was also the confidence in which Harry acted around William Copley.

Now, Severus understood what had unsettled Draco so last night.

It was only due to their soulmate bond that he could sense – _feel_ – the aversion for Copley that was blazing underneath "Nicholas Coppperfield's" serene surface. It wasn't hate, exactly, that Harry was feeling for his ex-boyfriend, but the jealousy and dislike were intense. _Startling_ in comparison to the agreeable manner in which he spoke to William Copley.

Severus put a hand on Harry's shoulder. '_I love you. Only you. Now, then, always._' he thought.

Clearly. Loudly.

He felt Harry relax underneath his touch. However, Severus thought it wise to get the boy out of the kitchen and away from William Copley and so he said: 'Nicholas came by to borrow some ingredients. So if you'll excuse us for a moment, we'll be right back.'

He maneuvered Harry out of the kitchen. He could have not chosen a better moment either, because _just_ when Severus had closed the door behind them, Harry vanished – kindly saving the Potions master from having to explain Nicholas Copperfield's ultra-spontaneous Apparition to William Copley.

Meanwhile inside the kitchen, an uncomfortable silence had spread out between Draco and William Copley.

'You're in the fifth year, aren't you?' William asked after a moment. His voice was as cheerful as ever, but the expression on his face showed only too clearly that he was aware of how lame this attempt of making small talk with Lucius Malfoy's son had been.

Naturally, Draco's face showed the same.

'Mister …' he began after a while, when he felt his delay in replying had been long enough to be sufficiently rude. Future Harry hadn't denied it: William Copley was supposed to gone! And if Severus would not throw the Divination teacher out … Draco knew someone who would.

'Copley,' William helped quickly.

'Yeah, whatever,' Draco replied. 'Listen, Copley!'

_And there goes my A in Divination._

'My godfather might be uncomfortable of telling you this, not wanting to be rude to an Ex and all, but it's New Year's Eve tonight, which happens to be a very special holiday in this family. A true _family_ holiday if you catch my drift. But hey, I've been told that Hogwarts is supposed to have some great fireworks, too.'

* * *

They seemed to have reached a silent agreement: Mentioning last night was off limits. 

Harry was extremely grateful for Draco's silence. He had felt so dreadful this morning and terribly afraid that last night's conversation – and the fact that Draco had tried to kiss him and that _he_ had stopped him - had altered their friendship. If he would lose Draco as a friend … Harry (almost unable to even _remember_ life before the day he and his archenemy became friends) didn't even dare to finish the thought.

Thankfully, though, Draco Malfoy was beyond feeling self-conscious or awkward around _anybody_, Harry thought with a smile as he mustered his blonde Opponent on the other side of the chess board. Draco had simply waltzed into his parent's dining room this morning, smug as ever, and ordered Harry to 'Finish up breakfast already, fatty, and go get your broom. I'm bored.'

And that was that.

Draco was still studying the chess board with a look of utmost concentration, mentally exercising his next possible moves, and Harry's eyes began to wander.

He and Draco were sitting on the floor next to the Christmas tree in the Malfoy's living room. Through the double glass doors Harry could see inside the adjoining dining room, where Draco's parents, Priya and Severus were still sitting in front of their half-finished dinner plates and engaged in a good-humored and animated conversation about … erm, whatever it was that a Death Eater, a Death Eater's wife and a Death Eater Spy talked about.

Lucius now opened a bottle of champagne. As he uncorked the bottle, his eyes fell on Harry and he nodded his head acknowledgingly. Harry smiled back.

'_Ever since you got here, my dad's being more civil with you than I've ever seen him with anyone who's not a member of this family.'_

Today he felt fond of just about everyone in the world, it seemed. Even Lucius Malfoy. Maybe it was the fact that Draco still was his friend, maybe it was the fact that this morning Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy had _insisted_ he called them Lucius and Narcissa from now on. Maybe it was merely the glass of wine he and Draco had been allowed to drink for dinner.

But, no. If Harry was completely, absolutely, _truthfully_ honest with himself, he knew it was because... well, William Copley wasn't here, for one thing, which was always a plus.

'_Did you vomit because you were still upset about Sev and his Ex?' _

Also, he had been so anxious to see Professor Snape again today. After what Draco had told him last night, Harry had feared he would now never be able to look at the teacher again without a) blushing into a nice shade of tomato red, b) being unable to speak but one coherent sentence and c) dropping dead with embarrassment, period. Truth be told, he had already prepared for being sulky with Severus, too. He _was_ pissed off about William Copley after all. That man didn't belong here!

But there was something about Severus Snape! Harry wondered if he had truly never noticed it _before_ he and the Slytherin Head of house became … friends.

'_You do know that a soulmate bond needs time to develop, right?'_

Whether it was the calm manner in which he always spoke, his confidence, the way he looked at him – like he _knew_ Harry; knew him from the heart – or those wonderful little, random touches to which he had become almost used to by now, Harry didn't know.

'_And now tell me, when was the last time you saw our dearest Potions master ever being nice to any of his students?'_

But it seemed as though he just _couldn't_ feel uncomfortable, sad or angry around Severus Snape anymore even if he tried.

'_Do you have a soulmate, Harry Potter?'_

'… POTTER! EARTH TO HARRY POTTER!'

Harry was ripped from his thoughts when Draco bleated loudly into his ear. He laughed and pushed the Slytherin away.

'I'm not deaf, you know?' he asked.

'No, only stupid,' Draco agreed generously before pulling Harry to his feet. 'It's almost midnight, Potter. Let's go outside and watch the fireworks!'

They followed the adults outside into the garden where a couple of glowing house-elfs scurried about busily, preparing the pyrotechnics. When they began to count down the last ten seconds of the year, Harry felt the usual apprehension grabbing a hold of him that had accompanied his New Year's Eves for as long as he was able to remember.

In the past this night had been a special mark for the remainder of time he had yet to stay with the Dursleys. Another mark on the countdown to a future when he would finally be old enough to leave number four, Privet Drive.

Tonight it was even more than that.

Tonight, these fireworks marked the beginning of the year he would turn sixteen. According to the books this would be the year in which he was most likely to realize who his soulmate was.

This year he would hopefully see whether Draco's theory was right or not.

Around Harry, cheerful cries of _'HAPPY NEW YEAR!' _erupted and his apprehension was washed away by the melodic _Pling! _of their champagne glasses, numerous hugs, kisses on the cheeks, claps on the shoulders and magnificent fireworks explosions.

Later on he wouldn't exactly remember _how_ it had happened, but suddenly Harry found himself in Severus Snape's arms. 'Happy new year, Potter!' the teacher said, briefly pressing Harry against his chest. They released each other and clinked their glasses.

'Happy new year!' Severus said again.

'I hope so, Professor,' Harry replied. 'I really hope so.'

_**To be continued**_


	30. Occlumency

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* * *

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**Disclaimer:**  
I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

**Author's Note:  
**I'm fully aware that this chapter is going to be one of those a reader either hates or loves. I was a bit shaken up while writing it. It was a bit unsettling to dig around in Harry's childhood, I suppose;-), but I tried to keep his memories as Canon as possible without traipsing into the fan-fictional trap of, well, painfully overdoing it. I hope I succeeded. This chapter is also quite personal. But before you wonder … No, I did not have an abusive childhood! But even so, there's something I talk about in this chapter, that's intimate and important to me – just like the main theme/idea of this story, really. I don't even know why I'm telling you this. Maybe to protect myself, I don't know. So, please try to go easy on the flames, will you ;-)?

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Chapter 30  
"**Occlumency"**

Outside, the sun was still contemplating whether to rise and shine. Inside, the Gryffindor Fifth Years were still sleeping soundly in their four-poster beds. Only one of the Gryffindor boys had drawn the heavy maroon curtains around him closed. Behind those curtains Harry Potter was rolling around in his bed restlessly, imprisoned in the cobweb of a dream …

_He stared at his reflection in the mirror above the sink. It was like magic! Only yesterday had Aunt Petunia decided that Harry needed his hair cut and so … she had cut it. Snip, snap! How he had hated it! How he had resented it! How he had wished for his hair to miraculously grow back over night. And … it had! _

_Now, only hours later, he stood in the bathroom again; shaking from the cold that was traveling from the bathroom tiles through his bare feet into his body and from anger. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Uncle Vernon was shaking, too. He wasn't barefooted, however, and merely shaking with hate - it was so clear to see. Not that Harry cared anymore. But he cared about the razor in Uncle Vernon's hand; he cared about it very much. If Aunt Petunia's scissor-work had been bad, this would be dreadful._

_He made a half-hearted attempt to flee, but Uncle Vernon grabbed him around the waist and pulled him back. 'Don't you dare, boy!' he hissed and turned on the razor. The drilling noise made the little hairs on Harry's neck stand up. Somewhere in the back of his consciousness he knew this was nothing but a memory, relived in a dream, but even so his dream-self struggled against the inevitable. He gave up struggling when the sharp end of the battery-powered razor was pushed across his head for the first time; eating itself through his unruly curls and spitting them back out on the floor. The six year old Harry Potter watched in silent horror as his raven-black hair gave room to stripe after stripe of naked skin. _

_But it seemed that, for Uncle Vernon, shaving his nephew bald was not humiliation enough. After Harry had swept the bathroom floor and thrown his dark locks into the garbage bin behind the house, he was forced to resume his position in front of the cold bathroom's mirror and admire his own scalp. Only when Uncle Vernon had closed the door behind him ('If I come back and see a single strand of hair on that head of yours, boy, then Lord better have mercy on you!'), did Harry allow himself to cry._

_He cried soundlessly and watched the tears streaming down the gaunt face of his reflection._

'_There's no such thing as magic, there's no such thing as magic!' he mentally chanted the mantra he had learned so early on, hoping this would sufficiently keep his hair from growing back. The more he repeated these words, however, the more Harry could feel the all too familiar feeling rise inside of him. The feeling of being completely alone in this world. His hands gripped the sink and he forced himself to suppress the self-pity. He hated feeling sorry for himself. Detested it. But … it was true, wasn't it? He was alone._

_There was nobody in this world for him._

_A sob escaped Harry's throat and he detested that noise, too. He wasn't weak! He didn't have much, all right, but he had his dignity. However, it was very hard to stay dignified while staring at your crying, involuntarily bald-headed self in the mirror for long and soon it was all Harry could do not to rip the mirror off the wall and watch his own reflection shatter into a thousand pieces. _

'_WHERE ARE YOU?' he whispered. 'WHY ARE YOU NOT HERE NOW? I NEED YOU, CAN'T YOU SEE?' _

_Harry didn't have much hope that his silent pleas would actually be heard. His Guardian Angel was a very busy man it seemed, and didn't find time to comfort Harry with his presence often. _

_Today, however, seemed to be Harry's lucky day. He felt himself relax even before the reflection before him changed. Someone had appeared behind him, but Harry didn't turn around. He already knew that the Dursleys' bathroom was still empty except for him. The mirror had become all blurry, with only Harry's reflection being clearly visible. The tears had dried on his face and he smiled at the fuzzy shadow hovering behind him in the bathroom mirror. All Harry could see of him was black. Black clothes and black hair. Somehow Harry knew that even the Angel's eyes would turn out to be black if only he could see them. As it was, the man's face was nothing but a blur. But Harry was used to that by now. He didn't mind._

'_Hullo,' the small boy greeted the dark presence behind him. 'Have you been very busy, sir? I've missed you.'_

_The Angel never answered and Harry Potter never asked for a reply. The peaceful calmness that emanated from the dark man was all he needed to make him feel better. Suddenly Harry had the most daring of ideas. If this was a dream … then what if he did turn around now? Would he really still be alone this time around? Would his _– **s o u l m a t e** – _angel really not be there? The little boy braced himself. He turned around and …_

… _the Potions class erupted into laughter. Dumbstruck, Harry stood in the middle of dungeon. When he looked down on himself, he saw that he was still wearing nothing but Dudley's hand-me-down XXL boxer shorts. He was still six years old and although his dreaming mind realized he couldn't possibly know the people around him yet, little Harry Potter knew them all. There was Draco, looking distinctly amused. And there were Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean. They all were laughing at him. Whether they laughed at the shape of his bald head or at the little blue Smurfs on his shorts, Harry didn't know. Not that it mattered. He only wanted to – _**w a k e** **u p!** _– die._

'_SILENCE!' somebody thundered suddenly. Immediately, the class obeyed. Harry looked up, towards the long end of the room. There, Professor Snape got up from behind his desk and now walked towards him. Not that Harry could see very much, mind, for his eyes were brimming with tears. All Harry could see of Severus Snape was black. Black clothes and black hair. Harry knew that even the teacher's eyes would turn out to be black if only he could see them. As it was, the man's face was nothing but a blur. But Harry was used to that by now. He didn't mind … _

Harry Potter woke up with a start.

His pulse was beating loudly in his ears and, momentarily disoriented, he brought a hand to his chest to cover the source of that terrible noise as not to wake his fellow students around him. When he had recovered slightly, he reached for his glasses on the bedside table, put them on and checked his watch. It was too early to get up and too late to go back to sleep. Groaning, Harry kicked his legs free from the entangled covers and got out of bed.

The water was hot, almost painfully so, but Harry had always relished the burning feeling on his skin. For a long time he stood motionless underneath the shower, his eyes closed, and slowly the tension left his muscles. Slowly, reality reclaimed him. It was Valentine's Day today.

_Yippee-yah-yay! _

Eventually, Harry stepped outside the shower and dried himself. Afterwards, he wrapped the towel around his waist and stepped in front of long bathroom mirror that hovered above a row of five sinks. The moment he reached up to wipe off the steam, an eerie sense of dejavú came over him. But … he was alone. He still had his hair, too.

'_Now that's a relief,'_ Harry thought dryly. He would be going out on a date today, after all. And he really preferred doing so with his hair on top, thank you very much.

_My first date. Ever. Yippee-yah-yay. _

Harry punched the mirror once after cleaning it. Then, he punched the sink for good measure.

'Soulmates! HA!' he said scathingly and his reflection sneered back at him.

'If we're soulmates, then why hasn't he at least _warned_ me that I'll have to endure the presence of William-_ooh-my-ex-is-so-bloody-hot_-Copley every blasted day this year, huh?' he asked his twin on the other side of the mirror. 'If we're soulmates, then why do our Occlumency lessons always suck? HUH? If we're soulmates, then why am I going out on a date with Cho Chang? HUH? _HUH?_'

Once again, he punched his mute reflection on the mouth - lightly enough to not send the mirror flying, but hard enough to make it tremble.

'I tell you why, Potter!' he muttered. 'Because Draco had it all wrong! That's why.'

* * *

'Harry, isn't this place sweet? Look at the Valentine's decoration!' 

Harry grinned crookedly and followed Cho into a little corner, where they sat down at one of the two remaining tables. After they had ordered their coffees, an awkward silence stretched out between them. All subjects of common interest had already been thoroughly discussed on their way into Hogsmeade, it seemed.

Harry looked around, pretending to admire the decoration. Oh, he could _just_ imagine the look on Severus's face if he saw those cherubs that were hovering over each table and throwing confetti around!

'Lovely, isn't it?' Cho beamed, misinterpreting Harry's smile.

'Yes, erm, really cute!' he lied quickly.

The teashop was full of couples; boys and girls who were all holding hands and gazing deeply into each other's eyes. Harry looked down on the table and saw that Cho's hand was resting beside her coffee cup. Did she expect him to take it?

Slowly removing both of his hands out of the danger zone, he rubbed them across his thighs nervously. 'Well …,' he began tentatively, trying to come up with something, _anything_, to say. Just then the little bells above the entrance door chimed merrily and they both turned around.

'Oh no!' Cho moaned. 'It's Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson!'

For a moment Harry had some difficulties arranging his facial features back into a neutral expression; remembering almost too late that he was not supposed to jump up and greet his "archenemy" with 'Draco, over here! Come and join us! _Please?_'

Pansy and Draco wormed their way through the crowded teashop, aiming directly for the last empty table next to them.

'Oh no,' whispered Cho again, instinctively trying to hide her face behind a hand.

Draco helped Pansy out of her coat and pulled one of the two chairs from the table for her to sit down on. At the same time he looked over at Harry and Cho.

'Ladies,' he smirked very civilly, even bowing slightly.

Cho made a face. Harry hid a grin.

Draco then got out of his own coat, hung it over the back of his chair and sat down to look around the room. As he took in the frills, the hearts and the bows, his eyebrows rose higher and higher. Harry hid another grin behind his coffee cup. When he saw Draco's eyes finally coming to rest on the confetti-throwing cherubs over his table, however, Harry lost his countenance and snorted into his cup. He coughed quickly to disguise his laughter.

Draco and Pansy ordered coffee and tea from Madam Puddifoot while Harry and Cho went back to their awkward silence. But soon Cho started to talk about Umbridge and Harry gratefully accepted the subject by saying "uh-huh" and "uh-uh" in all the appropriate places. Out of the corner of his eyes he watched Draco and his own date. They were holding hands and both bent so low over the table that their foreheads were almost touching. Draco was talking in a very low voice about something that made Pansy Parkinson laugh every few seconds.

Harry tried so hard to think of something to say that would make Cho laugh, too, that he almost jumped when he felt her hand brushing against his. He looked at her to see if the touch had been accidental, but her hand stayed where it was, still touching his, and she smiled shyly. Mechanically, Harry took the offered hand and Cho's smile widened.

Harry's own smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

A part of him was hoping for Draco to be so preoccupied with Pansy that he would never notice their joined hands. The other part of him was praying that he would.

'I was really happy when you asked me out, you know?' Cho said softly. She blushed quite brilliantly and looked down at their entwined hands. Harry, who had just been wondering whether it was even _legal_ for a student to go out on a date with his teacher, was taken by surprise.

'Uh-huh,' he replied stupidly. 'Erm, I mean, thanks.'

Cho smiled. 'You're really shy, aren't you?' she asked him. For some reason this idea seemed to please her.

'I s'pose so,' Harry answered carefully. 'I … I don't know.'

He had never really thought about it. _Was_ he shy?

Cho bent over her side of the table and Harry, resisting the urge to inch back on his chair, mimicked her.

'I like it,' Cho confessed. 'I think it's really cute.'

She leaned even closer. 'And I really like you, too, you know?'

Even though Harry was oddly aware of the fact that he must look like the proverbial deer caught in the headlights, he couldn't seem to move. All he could do was watch as Cho's face came closer and closer.

'_NO!'_ he screamed silently. _'NOT LIKE THIS! NOT WITH HER!'_

Cho closed her eyes. Harry could feel her breath tingling on his face now.

His mind was working frantically. He didn't want to kiss Cho, but _not_ to kiss her would be very rude at this point, wouldn't it? He had asked her out after all! Wasn't it his _duty_ to kiss her or something? And why not? It wasn't like he would ever get to kiss **- S E V E R U S** – a _guy_ anytime soon, was it? So why not Cho?

_Why not? It's only a kiss. Who cares?_

Harry closed his eyes in defeat …

'… at least Cedric was good-looking,' a female voice next to them suddenly remarked in a not-so-hushed whisper.

Cho's and Harry's eyes snapped open again, only to find Draco and Pansy smirking at them.

'Tsk, tsk, tsk!' Draco shook his head at Cho, putting a hand on his heart in mock anguish. 'The frivolity, Miss Chang!' he said, looking very sad. 'Why, I'm shocked. You forgot about poor Cedric so quickly …'

Harry heard Cho's sharp intake of breath. She jumped up from her chair so fast that it tipped over. Blindly, she gathered her jacket and bag.

'You …! You're so mean!' Cho sobbed and ran outside. Pansy waved after her, snickering.

The teashop had gone completely silent. Wordlessly Harry stared at Draco, taking in the anger in the other boy's eyes - anger that had nothing to do with Cedric Diggory's memory. Harry was also aware of everybody else's eyes resting on them. He knew that they all expected him to defend Cho's honor and punch Draco on the nose or at least ask him to apologize (hell, Draco probably _wanted_ him to start a fight in order to protect their cover), but … he couldn't.

_Thank you!_

So instead, Harry simply threw a Galleon on the table, grabbed his jacket and followed Cho outside.

* * *

Severus sensed them before he heard them. 

There was his mate, clearly relieved about something. And there was Cho Chang, a beautiful teenage Ravenclaw, who happened to be hopelessly infatuated with Harry, who was clearly disappointed about the same thing, whatever it was.

Well, he wasn't a greasy old git for no reason.

Severus Snape, who was just patrolling the school's corridors, refrained from turning around the next corner to meet the two teenagers and … eavesdropped.

'Cho, wait! Listen, D- Malfoy's a pillock, you know that! I'm sure he didn't mean to - erm, I mean - I mean, you _know_ how he is. Don't let him get to you.'

Harry's plea was answered with a few stifled sobs, before Cho managed to say: 'It's just that … I've liked you for a long time, Harry. But I really liked Cedric, too, and I don't want anyone to think that I don't care about him anymore now that you and I-'

'I'm sure nobody thinks that of you!' Harry assured her hastily, but Severus had heard enough to know that he liked the direction this conversation was heading even less than Harry apparently did.

'_Now that you and I …'_

He had no difficulty and even less scruple to extract the previous series of events from Cho Chang's mind. Ah, now that was interesting. The girl had tried to kiss Harry – and he would've kissed her back! - if Draco hadn't interrupted them, tactful as he was.

_Fifty points for Slytherin._

'And what do _you_ think of me, Harry?' Cho asked, sounding hopeful.

'I – erm,' Harry replied.

'Do you agree with Draco? Do you think I'm a … do you think …?' She began to cry again. Severus rolled his eyes, but his young mate was far more sympathetic.

'Cho, please don't cry anymore!' Harry begged.

Severus peered around the corner and watched how he patted Cho on an arm helplessly. 'Malfoy is only …! Cho, please! Just … _don't cry_! I … I like you, too, you know?'

Severus knew that this was true. But he also knew that Harry had only meant to pacify the girl and stop her from crying. He had not, on the other hand, meant for Cho to fall into his arms and sob uncontrollably into his shoulder. But even though Severus _knew_, when it happened, he decided that he didn't like the sight.

At all.

He stopped himself from appearing from behind the corner then and there, however, by telling himself _'For Merlin's sake, Severus, he's only trying to calm down a distressed girl,' _but when the girl's sobs grew fewer and fewer until she only hiccoughed into Harry's neck, but STILL didn't let go of him, Severus crossed his arms.

When the girl finally detached her head from Harry's shoulder and looked at him, but STILL had her arms wrapped around his neck, Severus's fingers began drumming on his upper arms.

When the girl leaned in and closed her eyes in an all too obvious attempt to kiss Harry, but his mate STILL didn't pull back, Severus stepped forward.

'POTTER!' he barked.

Both, Cho and Harry flinched violently.

'Professor!' Harry yelped. He pushed Cho off him and all but jumped backwards to emphasize his guilt. Severus almost smiled.

Almost.

'Well, what are you waiting for, Potter?' he snapped. 'Your Remedial Potions lesson has begun ten minutes ago. But if you'd like to tell your Headmaster that you'd prefer kissing your _Valentine_ instead of working towards your OWLs, be my guest.'

Harry's mouth fell open. 'But, sir,' he began tentatively, 'it's only ten past fi-'

He stopped and Severus didn't need to read his mind to know why. Harry _knew_ that their Occlumency lesson wasn't before eight o' clock in the evening. They were _always_ at eight! Of course, he could have stopped Harry from kissing the Ravenclaw by merely telling him that he'd like to bring forward their lesson because some other "appointment" had come up later on tonight. Or, he could have effectively embarrassed Harry into the next century by saying something along the lines of 'Kindly snog _outside_ the walls of this school if you really must, Potter.'

But Severus wasn't in the mood for subtlety.

* * *

Only a desk separated them. On one side stood Severus Snape, with his wand raised as though he was waiting to attack. On the other side there stood Harry Potter, uncomfortable and nervous. Already, it was clear to see that this Occlumency lesson, like all the others, would result in no success. But then, theirs was never a fair match to begin with. How could you teach your soulmate to fully close his mind against yours? 

You couldn't. It was as simple as that.

Severus knew that Harry despised their lessons. After the "Christmas Incident", where Severus had established a bonding of their minds – their _souls_ – in order to keep Lord Voldemort out, Harry had naturally expected their Occlumency lessons to be something different. Even though he had never told Severus so, the teacher knew that Harry had been very much looking forward to a renewed connection of their minds.

But when Occlumency had turned out to be completely different, Harry felt betrayed. He never bothered to hide his abhorrence for the art of Legilimency. Severus did not blame him. He, too, would have preferred to wait until Harry one day trusted him enough to _tell_ him certain things about his childhood. He hated having to humiliate his young mate by stirring up memories, dreams and thoughts that Harry had either already forgotten or never meant to share.

'Ready?' Severus asked, his anger forgotten at the sight of Harry's thoroughly miserable face.

'Yes,' replied Harry unconvincingly.

They looked at each other and Severus pointed his wand at the Gryffindor.

'LEGILIMENS!'

_Harry was two years old and sitting in a highchair in front of the table. Next to him Aunt Petunia was feeding Baby Dudley. Harry was waiting for his turn patiently, he had now understood that crying would not make the Big People give him food any faster. If anything it only made them look at him even more angrily and Harry didn't like them looking at him like that._

'_Love you, Mama!' Dudley squealed now, much to the delight of his mother._

'_Vernon! Vernon! Did you hear?' she cried out. After that the little boy in her lap was rewarded with a shower of affection. Attentively, Harry watched as the other toddler was cuddled, hugged and kissed by his mother._

'_I love you, too, Duddi-Duddi-Duddikins!' Petunia cooed. 'Mummy loves you, too, little darling! Oh, Vernon, did you hear? Dudley says he loves his Mama!'_

_When it was his turn to be fed, Harry knew just what to do._

'_Love you, Mama!' he cried happily._

_His declaration was followed by silence._

'_I'm not your mother, boy!' Petunia snapped at last, looking very unsettled and thrusting the little tea spoon into his mouth rather roughly. 'You don't have a mother!'_

**-X-**

_Harry was four and sitting on a tree in the Dursleys' backyard, shaking with fear. Beneath him a bulldog was indefatigably trying to climb after him, barking and growling, while Dudley stood in safe distance, egging the dog on gleefully. Uncle Vernon came outside to inquire about the commotion._

'_Please, Uncle,' Harry pleaded. 'Could you please take the dog away? Please!'_

_But Vernon Dursley didn't even look at him. 'Come inside, Duddikins,' he said. 'Dinner's ready.'_

_The two of them left, leaving Harry - and the dog – behind._

**-X-**

_Harry was six and quietly sitting at an empty dinner table. He was sitting on both of his hands and since he was so small that his feet didn't reach the ground just yet, his legs were loosely swinging back and forth, while he was inspecting his dirty sneakers with interest. Every once in a while he would look up and peek at his cousin Dudley, who was kneeling in front of the Christmas tree, among a good two dozen gifts. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were sitting behind their son on the sofa. Both were glowing with pride as they watched Dudley ripping open one present after the next. _

_None of the presents on the pile were for him, Harry knew, and usually he would have just waited patiently until his aunt and uncle allowed him to go back into his cupboard, but this year would be different. This year he would be getting a present, too!_

_The moment Harry had seen the __neighbor's son __Jamie Parker riding his brand new, red bicycle for the first time, he had dreamed of having one of his own. It had taken him weeks to work up the courage to confide in Aunt Petunia. For the first week she had simply said 'No!', but Harry had been persistent. And finally his aunt had agreed that he could earn himself his bike by being a good boy and dutifully fulfilling all his chores this year. Of course, this was something Harry would have to do anyway, bike or no bike, and so it had struck him as a fantastic deal._

_At last Dudley was finished with unwrapping all his presents and Uncle Vernon got up from the couch._

'_Only one present left now!' he declared and disappeared into the hallway, smiling mysteriously. Harry only just stopped himself from whooping with glee. He would get a present now, too! A beautiful red bike that would be entirely his own. Only if Dudley asked very, very nicely, would Harry allow his cousin to ride it, too. But not often, mind, for Harry doubted he would spend much time off his new bike from now on. Of course he had never ridden a bicycle before, but surely Uncle Vernon could agree to teach him once he saw how beautiful Harry's new, read bike was. And if Harry was quick enough to learn (which he KNEW he would be), then Uncle Vernon co__uld be __as proud of him as he had been after successfully teaching his son how to ride a bike._

_Harry's breath caught when the door of the living room opened again and Uncle Vernon came back in, pushing a wonderfully shiny red bike next to him. Harry stood up on shaking legs. It was even more beautiful than he had imagined it to be. All this year's work, all those tedious chores … it had been worth it. His face felt rather hot as he beamed at his uncle, but for some reason Uncle Vernon pushed the bike right past him._

'_Here, Duddikins!' he said, smiling at Harry's cousin. 'You're much too tall for your old bike by now, we thought it was about time we got you a new one.'_

_It felt to Harry as though somebody had just exchanged the heat on his face with icicles that froze his glowing smile. He looked up at his aunt who looked back at him with a pitying, almost apologetic expression on her face that Harry had never seen before. Then, she gazed back at her husband.  
__And while Dudley Dursley climbed his new red bike for the first time, Harry Potter climbed back on his chair and watched as his cousin began to ride around the dinner table, again and again …_

As he watched this memory, Severus could feel the numb feeling of defeat rising inside of Harry. At first the teenager had tried to fight the invasion of his mind, but this last memory seemed to have propelled him past the point of caring.

Severus – unable to look at the expression of sorrow on the little raven-haired boy's face much longer and to _feel_ it emanating from the fifteen year old counterpart - was about to break the connection himself, when suddenly, something in Harry's memory happened, that caught his attention.

_Harry knew that he was about to start crying any moment now. And he couldn't let that happen. It was only a stupid, ugly bike after all! And boys did not cry because of stupid, ugly bikes! And so to keep himself from crying, Harry decided to play his favorite game: Conjuring up his Angel. He would just imagine that his Angel was sitting next to him now, because even when Harry couldn't see the Angel with his own eyes – and he hardly ever did – it helped him to only _think_ of him. It calmed him to simply make believe that the dark man was there._

_Only for him._

_Carefully, so that his aunt and uncle wouldn't notice, Harry glanced towards the chair next to him and began to whisper under his breath. _

_'Have you been very busy, sir? I've missed you.'_

_Very soon, the little boy was engaged in a silent conversation with an empty chair. In Harry Potter's imagination, however, the chair wasn't empty. In his imagination a dark, black man sat on the chair next to him. He was talking to Harry in this quiet, velvety voice that Harry had come to love even though he had never heard it. The black Angel made funny faces at Dudley and his stupid, ugly bike that made Harry giggle even though he had never seen the dark man's face before. As always, the Angel's face was nothing but a blur - even in Harry's imagination._

Severus couldn't believe what was happening.

Could it really be that Harry had somehow, however vaguely, been aware of his existence already at such an early age?

Could it really be that, while _he_ had let himself be forced into ignorance and denial of his soulmate bond to this little fellow, Harry had survived his appalling childhood by pretending that he, Severus Snape, was out there somewhere?

Could it really be that, while Severus had not given a house-elf's arse about whether the little boy was in good hands or not, Harry Potter had thought of him, the dark man, as his Guardian Angel?

_The boy's face screwed up in concentration. If he would only try a little harder, maybe he could _make up _the Angel's face …_

'Stop!' somebody coughed and it took Severus a moment to realize that it had been Harry. His mind was struggling against Severus's, vehemently trying to break their connection.

And although Severus was shocked to the core by the development of Harry's latest memory, he managed to encourage his student. 'That's it,' he said softly. 'Push me out, Harry, fight me. Fight against me!'

'NO!' Harry rasped and Severus didn't know if it was in protest against this last instruction or the fact that he was _still_ inside his head and watching how …

… _the blurry, black Angel was rapidly becoming visible as though some non-existent fog before him finally cleared. A row of shiny, black buttons manifested on a black coat; a jagged collar hugging a pale throat; dark, shoulder-length hair that curtained the face of Se-…_

'GET OUT!'

… _Sirius Black who looked at the little boy next to him with a mixture of pity and amusement. 'Forget about him, Harry, for he will not ever give a damn about you. He's scum, trust me! Stick to the people that care about you instead. Find yourself a nice girl-'_

'_He hates me?' All color drained from the child's face. 'He knows that I exist, he knows that I'm his soulmate and he hates me?' …_

'Please get out, Professor!'

… _Sirius vanished and instead there sat Draco Malfoy who leaned over to Harry, so close that their noses were almost touching, and asked: 'Do you have a soulmate, Harry Potter?'_

'_Severus is not him!' the little boy replied crossly._

_Draco grinned. 'Want to bet on it?'_

'STOP IT!' Harry roared.

Severus felt a huge mental push - and Harry had finally managed to throw him out of his mind.

Harry was trembling; trembling from effort, tension and anger. Blood was trickling out of his nose and he reached up and gingerly touched it. Then, he looked down on his bloody fingertips and – after a long moment – looked back up at Severus.

'Can I go now?'

* * *

Pansy turned around. 'Aren't you coming?' she asked. 

Draco Malfoy shook his head. 'I'm not hungry,' he said. 'Go on in, I think I'll just go to the library and do some of my homework.'

Pansy rolled her eyes and shrugged. 'Do what you must,' she sing-songed airily before disappearing inside the Great Hall, where a magnificently decorated dinner table was already waiting for her.

Draco waited until the doors had closed behind his friend before he dived behind the nearest statue.

'Potter, you prat, what if someone had seen-' he began greeting the raven-haired boy that was waiting behind it, but stopped mid-sentence. 'What happened to you?' he asked sharply, pointing at a dried splotch of blood underneath Harry's nose. 'Who did this?'

'Never mind,' Harry said, hastily dabbing his nose with a tissue. 'It's just a nosebleed.'

'Shall I go down and get something from Severus for it?' Draco offered.

'NO!' Harry protested quickly and more loudly than necessary.

'Well, what do you want, then?' Draco asked impatiently while peering around the statue to make sure they were still unnoticed.

'I want you to teach me Occlumency.'

'I beg your pardon?' Draco asked, taken aback. 'But Severus is teaching you already!'

'Teach me also.'

_**To be continued**_


	31. Rebels With A Cause

**

* * *

**

**Disclaimer:**  
I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

* * *

Chapter 31  
"**Rebels With A Cause"**

He was pale, much paler than usual, and even though Harry's eyes were closed, the dark circles underneath them told Draco all he needed to know. 'You're not sleeping much these days, are you?' he asked. It wasn't much of a question.

Harry opened his eyes to look at him. 'No,' he admitted. 'I'm not.'

Draco watched as the Gryffindor sat up again and began plucking out random strands of grass around him. It was way past midnight, even though the dim, magical light in the 'Garden of Eden' - the secret garden once created by Lucius Malfoy somewhere underneath the dungeons of Hogwarts – suggested that the sun was only going down. The two of them had come down here to practice Occlumency for the first time and were now taking a break from what had turned out to be a difficult lesson for both of them.

Harry was still appalled by the fact that his mind wasn't the fortress he had always thought it to be. It disconcerted him that his memories, thoughts and even dreams could be so easily sought out and, if sought out by the wrong wizard, used as a weapon, too. A weapon against himself and the people he loved.

Draco, on the other hand, was still disconcerted about the nature of the memories he had found in his friend's mind tonight. Before Harry had even had a chance to begin to fight any of his intrusions, Draco had broken every spell again himself, outraged, and asked Harry _'Who was this?' _and _'Who was that?' _and _'Why in Merlin's name did they do that to you?'_

At first, Harry had smiled and patiently explained all about his Muggle relatives to Draco. When Draco had been absolutely indignant over Dudley Dursley's attempt to make Harry stand in the toilet, the Gryffindor had even laughed at him ('Like you wouldn't love to do the same, Malfoy!'), but after a while he had become upset and requested a break.

Harry seemed lost in thought now and Draco put a hand on the other boy's shoulder to tear him from his daydream.

'Are you alright?' he asked.

Harry's eyes focused again and he looked at Draco. 'Yes,' he said. Then: 'No. No, I'm not alright.'

'And are you going to tell me what's wrong?'

Harry shook his head. 'I'd rather go on with our lesson, if you don't mind,' he said, getting up from the ground. Draco followed his example.

'If you really want …' he replied, his voice trailing off skeptically.

'I do,' Harry said. Then, he smiled. 'And now that you're acquainted with every one of my living family members, do you reckon you might actually be able to _teach_ me something?'

'I just might,' Draco sighed.

* * *

_He tried to blend in and be washed along the pavement amidst the crowd before she would notice him. _

_'SEVERUS!' _

_No such luck. But Severus Snape pretended not to have heard her, entangled himself from the crowd and disappeared inside a shabby little bookstore at the end of the street. He breathed only when he had shut the door behind him. Then, he disappeared behind a row of shelves in the back of the shop. Just to be sure. _

_When the jingling of bells announced the entrance of another customer, he pulled out the largest book he could find, opened it and held it right in front of his face. _

_'Severus Tobias Snape! Tell me you are not hiding from me.' _

_Severus almost sighed in defeat. Slowly, he let the book sink and looked at the beautiful, young woman who stood at the end of the aisle, her hands on her hips. Her long red hair was blazing around her like fire and her emerald eyes were sparkling with a mixture of amusement and irritation. _

_'That, I'm afraid, would require me to lie to you, Mrs. Potter,' Severus replied with as much dignity as he could muster in this admittedly embarrassing situation, putting particular emphasis on Lily Evans's new last name that he knew still sounded as alien to her ears as it did to his. _

_As expected, Lily blushed slightly. The expression on her face softened. _

_'How are you, Severus?' she asked, walking towards him, and everything in her tone told him that this wasn't just a polite phrase. She truly wanted to know and it was unsettling. _

_'Very well, thank you,' Severus replied stiffly. 'How are you?' _

_His eyes wandered down to the small but obvious bulge of her belly underneath her striped summer dress. 'He doesn't starve you, that much is certain,' he added dryly and only when she laughed did he realize how much he had missed her. _

_'You were never all that funny, Snape!' Lily nagged teasingly and punched him on the arm. Then she opened hers wide. _

_'Give me a hug!' she ordered … and Severus complied. _

_'Why did you not come to my wedding, Severus?' Lily asked after they had released each other. 'It would have meant so much.' _

_'Because the wedding wasn't just your wedding, it was YOUR wedding,' answered Severus. 'I didn't want to ruin anyone's mood. Least of all that of your husband.' _

_They looked at each other and both knew there was no use pretending that Severus Snape would have been a welcomed guest at the Evans & Potter wedding reception. Death Eaters usually weren't. _

_'Thank you for your wonderful, wonderful present, Sev,' Lily said softly, taking both of his hands in hers. 'It's beautiful! Absolutely over-the-top,' – she smiled – 'but beautiful. Thank you so very much!' _

_'I got your 'Thank you' card already, Evans!' Severus replied gruffly. 'It's fine.' _

_Lily laughed. 'Your wedding gift was a piano, Severus! A piano! A stupid card is not nearly enough, but for some reason you were never available when I tried to thank you in person!' She raised her eyebrows accusingly and Severus cleared his throat. _

_'That unsophisticated oaf you call your husband now is never going to provide you with anything other than broomsticks and Quaffles.' he grumbled. Looking down at her tummy, he added: 'At least now your son can be taught something besides Quidditch.' _

_Instinctively, Lily put a hand on her stomach. She smiled and Severus didn't think she had ever looked more beautiful than she looked in this particular moment. _

_'A son?' she asked. 'You think it's going to be a boy? That's funny, because James and I are in the middle of discussing girl's names.' Suddenly, she laughed. 'Judging by its kick, however, I think you do have a point. Here!' _

_She took one of Severus's hands and placed it on the small bulge of her stomach. 'Can you feel it?' _

_Severus's eyes widened as he stared at his hand. 'Yes,' he said. 'Yes, I can feel him.' _

_Thoughtfully, Lily looked at him. 'Him, yes? So, it's a boy. Well, what do you think of James, then? Or Jamie?' _

_Severus shook his head rather fervently. _

_'Christian?' _

_Severus shook his head once more. _

_'Robin? Elijah? __Jordan__? Mark? Sean?' _

_Again and again Severus shook his head. _

_'Daniel?' _

_'No,' Severus said. 'Harry. His name is Harry.'_

_

* * *

_

'Go, me-ee! Go me-ee!'

Harry Potter wiggled his hips and used both of his hands to make a stirring motion in front of him in a funny sort of victory dance. 'Go, me-ee! Go me-ee!'

Draco had both his arms crossed in front of him and looked at the hyper Gryffindor with a sneer that would have suggested pure superiority to anyone else, but Harry knew him better by now. Enthusiastically, he tackled the Blonde in a sort of half-hug and whooped: 'I did it!'

Draco, trying his hardest to stay upright at the assault, smirked. 'I suppose this means you're not as stupid as you look, Potter! My world view is shattered and so am I.'

Harry sniggered gleefully.

He released Draco, drew himself up to full height, pointed at himself and announced: 'I, Ladies and Gentlemen ...,' he took a deep breath and looked around at the non-existent audience, '… went into Draco Malfoy's head!'

Then, he looked at Draco and complained: 'You really could have showed me something better than you making out with Pansy Parkinson, though.'

Harry held his stomach and pretended to gag.

Draco rolled his eyes, but smiled. For the first time this year Harry looked truly happy and although Draco would rather swallow his own tongue than admit how much he enjoyed seeing this playful side of Harry again, he didn't have the heart to admit that he hadn't even _tried_ to block Harry's very first Legilimency spell either. And it didn't matter, really. The fact that Harry had managed to enter his mind right on first try was impressive enough. Legilimency was something that took even the greatest wizards weeks – sometimes months – to learn. And many of them never did.

_Maybe you really ARE our savior, Potter … _

Harry, misinterpreting Draco's thoughtful look, immediately became serious again.

'Draco, I'm sorry if I upset you! I didn't mean to intrude …'

'Will you shut up?' Draco huffed, giving the other boy a little shove. 'Stop apologizing for doing something that others are doing to you on a regular basis, Potter! I told you that I would teach you Legilimency and I did. Now, if only you were half as talented with Occlumency …'

He sighed, but was only half-serious.

Harry had done quite well for their first lesson. He had eventually managed to block most of Draco's spells. The only problem was that he had done so only _after_ Draco had already entered his mind – which, of course, could already be too late if Harry's attacker was someone like, say, the Dark Lord. But this was only their first lesson and it was clear to see that Harry _did_ have potential. Draco really didn't understand what his godfather was complaining about. But then Draco's soul wasn't bonded to Harry's.

Maybe that had something to do with it.

Suddenly Draco had an idea. 'Potter!' he exclaimed. 'One last time, come on! But don't try to push me out this time, don't fight. Instead just show me again what you're supposed to think of before you go to sleep!'

Harry groaned, but he obeyed just the same. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. For a moment he stood like this, the expression on his face one of deep concentration. Draco knew what he was conjuring up in front of his inner eye now – a certain everyday memory that was as harmless and inoffensive as it was expected in the mind of any _normal_ student attending a wizarding school.

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Draco to show that he was ready. The Slytherin raised his wand. 'Legilimens,' he said quietly.

The connection was almost immediate. After all, Harry was not supposed to fight the spell this time. He was supposed to give Draco what he wanted, which was ... an empty classroom!

Harry was thinking of an empty classroom and now, after he had entered Harry's mind, it almost felt to Draco as though he was standing inside the room himself.

It was their Transfiguration classroom, complete with the familiar sight of the many shelves and cupboard full of more of less successful transfigured objects - a vase that had once been milk jug, a pencil that was so sharp it could only have been a needle, a football that had been a pumpkin in a previous life and a pin cushion with six tell-tale spider's legs sprouting from it.

There was also the teacher's desk up front and the four rows of student desks. They were all empty except for one; the one with Harry Potter sitting behind it.

Draco mentally walked over to him. 'Not bad, Potter!' he congratulated quietly.

Somewhere, outside his mind, the real-life Harry Potter made a hissing noise as though he was struggling underneath a lot of weight. The mental projection of Harry, however, merely looked at Draco without making a sound – his eyes narrowed and his jaw set. Draco wasn't at all surprised. He knew how much effort and strength it took to visualize a certain image while keeping all your other thoughts at bay.

'This was really, very good, Harry!' Draco said, breaking the connection and leaving Harry's mind again. 'I'm proud of you.'

'Merlin's Beard!' Harry gasped and collapsed on the floor. He rubbed his head with both of his hands and groaned. 'That was _difficult_!'

Draco sat down next to him. 'But don't you find it more difficult to actually fight the intrusion without letting us see things you don't want us to see?' he asked.

Harry considered this. 'I guess,' he nodded slowly. 'It seems like it.'

'Next time Severus enters your mind, do NOT fight him either,' Draco instructed, omitting the fact that it was pretty much useless to fight the mind-read of your own soulmate anyway, especially if that soulmate was a Legilimens as strong as Severus Snape.

'You don't want me to fight the spell?' Harry asked with a frown.

'No. You're wasting too much time and energy trying to block the Legilimency spells. Whoever tries to enter your mind, show them _this_. Show them our Transfiguration classroom and … let them do with it whatever they want.'

'But then what am I learning Occlumency for?' Harry asked, sounding almost disappointed.

Draco grinned. 'Potter, this _is_ Occlumency. As a matter of fact it's an advanced form of Occlumency. Sometimes it's not enough to block a Legilimens out. Sometimes you have to give them what they want to see.'

'And Voldemort wants to see an empty classroom?' Harry asked skeptically.

'No, you dunderhead! It's not about giving people exactly what they want to see. It's about _not _giving them what they want by pretending to _give_ them what they want.'

'That made no sense whatsoever,' replied Harry blankly.

Draco scratched his head. 'No, I guess it didn't,' he admitted, grinning. 'Okay, let's assume that the Death Eaters have heard a rumor that Lucius Malfoy's son and the Golden Boy are friends now, alright?'

'Alright,' Harry nodded.

'Take your wand,' Draco ordered. 'Pretend that you're a Death Eater who has taken me hostage! Enter my mind and find out how much I really like Harry Potter.'

'Okay,' Harry shrugged and pointed his wand at Draco. Then, he made what Draco suspected was supposed to be his "Very Evil Face" and drawled in a deep voice: 'I'm Goyle's dad and you, Draco Malfoy, will show me whether you're Harry Potter's friend or not!'

'In all fairness, you're much better looking than Goyle's dad, Golden Boy. Or Goyle, mind.'

Harry dropped his wand again. 'You know,' he asked, bemused. 'I'm beginning to think you'd rather like to make out with _me_ instead of Pansy.'

'Shut up, Potter!' Draco laughed. 'And go ahead.'

Grinning, Harry raised his wand once more. 'Legilimens!'

Again, the connection was established almost immediately, which startled Harry so much, however, that he backed off the moment he entered Draco's mind.

'You're such a girl, Potter!' Draco scolded, amused. 'You don't have to feel bad for doing this, how often do I have to tell you? GO ON!'

'Okay, okay,' Harry nodded nervously. 'Let me try again.'

This time, Harry didn't pull back when he felt himself slipping into Draco's mind. A whirlwind of thoughts, memories and emotions engulfed him – too fast and too nebulous to comprehend – until everything finally came to a halt and a thought manifested in front of Draco's – and therefore Harry's – inner eye.

_The Hogwarts bathroom was only dimly lit and empty except for two boys. One of them was Draco, who stood at the end of the room in front of the long row of toilet cubicles and looking inside the last one. In there, another boy was standing in a half-crouching position, supporting his weight on the walls on either side of him, because only one of his feet still had contact to the solid bathroom floor. The other foot was stuck inside the toilet. _

_That boy was Harry. _

_'Did I allow you to speak, Potty? Did I?' Draco asked now. _

_'Let me out, you stupid pr-' Harry replied through clenched teeth. _

_'Mind your language when you speak to your superiors! And now the other leg, Potty-Boy,' Draco instructed patiently as though he was trying to pacify a stubborn toddler. 'No, not out. In! The _other_ leg.' _

_'Eat dung, Malfoy!' Harry protested. _

_Suddenly, Draco's demeanor changed. His face hardened and he stepped inside the cubicle, where one of his hands fastened around Harry's throat. _

_'Careful Potter, or that's exactly what you will do soon. The next toilet I will make you stand in might not be empty, Potty! And now, the other leg!' he hissed. _

_Stubbornly, Harry shook his head. _

_That, however, proved to be a mistake. Draco hurled him out of the toilet and forced him down onto his knees. Using one hand to keep Harry in this position, he curled his other fist around Harry's hair, forcing his head right above the open toilet. _

_'Thinking about it, making you stand inside a toilet it is not so much fun, really!' he snarled. 'How about I make you drink from it?' _

_He began to push the struggling and spluttering Gryffindor downwards … _

But fortunately Harry was spared the mortification of watching his own head disappear inside the toilet, because Draco broke their connection first and Harry was back in the 'Garden of Eden'. Slightly disoriented, he shook his head to clear his mind.

'I think you got the idea,' Draco said quietly. '_This_ is Occlumency, too, Potter.'

'Aha,' Harry said simply and without another word he got up from the floor.

'Yes. Well. Anyway,' he said brusquely, not looking Draco in the eyes. 'It's late. We have to go back.'

'Harry, wait!'

'It's late,' Harry repeated and began to stalk off.

'HARRY, WAIT!'

Draco jumped up, grabbed Harry by the arm and turned him around to face him. He had known that it was a bit risky (and probably unfair) to fabricate a fake memory from such a humiliating moment of Harry's past, but even so Harry's strong reaction surprised him: Harry's eyes were brimming with tears.

'Potter, come on!' Draco said nervously. 'Cheer up! You know that I was just making all this up. I would never …! I'm not Dudley Dursley! I have _a little bit_ of style, you know?'

Much to his relief, Harry smiled. 'I know,' he answered, drawing in a shaky breath. He wiped his face bravely, but then the tears began to fall anyway.

'Draco, could you go back without me?' Harry asked. He grinned lopsidedly and added: 'I think I need a moment to feel sorry for myself. I'll see you tomorrow, okay?'

'Okay,' Draco replied. 'Are you sure?'

Harry nodded.

'Alright, Potter. I'll see you tomorrow, then.'

Hesitantly, Draco started to walk away … but after only a few steps he changed his mind and turned back around. Quietly, he sat down next to Harry, who had his knees drawn up and was resting his forehead upon his crossed arms.

'Can I ask you something?' Draco asked after a moment.

'Hm.'

'This is not really about _me_, is it? It's about Severus.'

The long silence that followed his question didn't surprise Draco. He hadn't really expected an answer. And so Harry's reply startled him all the more when it finally came.

'Yes.'

Harry looked up at him. 'This is what he does whenever he's with Voldemort, right?' he asked. Promptly, the tears began to fall again and Harry buried his face in the crook of his arm. 'This is what he has to do whenever he's out there working as a Spy and people look into _his_ head. He's feeding them images like that of me, doesn't he?'

'I doubt those images involve flushing your head down a toilet, though,' replied Draco carefully and Harry snorted with something that could be interpreted as laughter.

'I don't know _what_ he pretends, but he pretends that he still hates me,' Harry continued, his voice muffled by his sleeve. 'He pretends things like … like that he wants me dead!'

'_Pretend_ is the keyword here, Potter,' answered Draco patiently. 'I don't really understand why you're so freaked out. After all you already knew that he's spying on the Dark Lord by pretending that he's a loyal Death Eater. And loyal Death Eaters have a tendency to want the Golden Boy dead. They are _not_ fond of Harry James Potter, generally! I mean, you _know_ how differently Severus acts around you while we're at Hogwarts and why. So why are you so upset all of a sudden?'

'When I was in your head just now,' Harry explained, wiping his eyes, 'you hated me. I _felt_ it! The only reason I knew that none of what I saw and felt in that memory was real was because I _knew_ that it didn't happen. But still you hated me.'

'I was _pretending_, Potter! That's all there is to it!' Draco said firmly. 'And Severus has never done anything else! And we are doing this to save your life! _Our_ lives!'

'I'm not ungrateful,' Harry said quietly. 'But it's just not fair! Now that Severus has finally stopped hating me, he still has to make believe that he does! And you, too! And all because of _Voldemort!_'

Harry's hands both curled into fists.

'Everything that's good in my life, he ruins!' he said angrily. 'I'm so sick of it! I hate him. I _hate_ him!'

* * *

Hermione Granger was beaming at the pretty, silver otter that was frolicking around her. 

'Very good, Hermione!' Harry praised and Hermione cheeks began to glow with pride as she directed her Patronus around the Room of Requirement. Meanwhile, Harry walked over to Neville who was sweating with effort but still had not managed to produce his own Patronus.

'You have to think of something _really_ happy,' Harry instructed quietly. 'I don't think thinking of your new 'Magical Herbs' book will do, Neville.'

Neville sighed. 'But I don't know what else to think of,' he said desperately. 'I don't really have-'

He stopped and his mouth fell open. A look of terror manifested on his face as he stared at something behind Harry. Only then did Harry notice that the rest of the DA class had gone deadly silent, too. Hermione's silver otter evaporated.

_Umbridge! She found us! _

Expecting the worst, Harry turned around. But Professor Umbridge was not the source for Neville's silent horror.

It was Draco Malfoy.

Torn between delight, surprise and fear of the worst, Harry greeted him guardedly: 'Malfoy.'

'Potter,' Draco nodded stiffly. 'Do you have room for one more?'

Harry felt his face break into a grin so broad, he was thankful that his ears were there to keep it in place.

'Of course!' he beamed, waving the Slytherin towards him. 'Come on in!'

At those words hell broke loose.

'WHAT?' Dean yelled. 'HAVE YOU BEEN CONFUNDED, HARRY? THIS IS MALFOY!'

'WHAT'S HE DOING HERE?' Lavender screeched. 'HOW CAN YOU ALLOW HIM IN, HARRY?'

'I DON'T WANT HIM HERE, HARRY!' Ron screamed, bright-red in the face.

'HOW DID YOU FIND US, MALFOY?' Seamus hollered. 'HARRY, HE HAS TO LEAVE!'

Unblinkingly, Draco and Harry looked at each other. Draco's expression was grave, but Harry smiled.

'SOMEBODY HAS PUT HARRY UNDER AN IMPERIUS CURSE!' Neville guessed.

'MALFOY, I SWEAR IF YOU HURT-' Cho began, but immediately fell silent when Harry raised his hand.

They all did.

'Be quiet for a minute,' Harry said. 'All of you.'

Nobody said a word. They all stared at Harry.

'I have not been confunded and I have not been placed under an Imperius Curse. Neither has Draco. He is here because I have invited him. Many times, actually.'

He looked at Draco and raised his eyebrows questioningly but Draco merely smiled, albeit rather lopsidedly. Harry could tell that, underneath his trademark invincible exterior, the Slytherin was nervous.

'Anyway,' Harry continued, 'If Draco wants to join the DA, he's more than welcome to!'

He looked around the room, meeting everybody's eyes, and calmly added: 'You will either welcome him, too, or you will simply leave him alone. But he _will_ stay.'

Everyone gaped at Harry.

'Shouldn't we … get to vote or something?' Cho finally stuttered. The others murmured their agreement.

Harry shrugged. 'Vote all you like,' he said. 'But if you vote Draco out, you vote me out, too.'

'BUT!' Ron spluttered, when his brothers Fred and George stepped forward.

'Welcome to the Light Side, young Slytherin!' they greeted, shaking Draco's hand jovially. Draco grinned back at them and Harry found that another Joke Shop investment seemed like a terribly good idea.

'I'll stay, too,' Luna Lovegood said, joining Draco and the twins. 'Hello, Draco Malfoy.'

'So will I,' Hermione said quietly, stepping forward. 'Hi Draco.'

Finally, only Neville, Ron, Seamus and Cho were left standing on the other side of the room.

'Harry, do you really think this is a good idea?' Neville asked nervously. 'Do you really trust him?'

'With my life.'

A collective murmur of surprise followed Harry's reply, but nobody dared to voice any more suspicions that included brainwash. Carefully and still not daring to look at Draco, Neville walked over to them, positioning himself as far away from the Slytherin as possible. Reluctantly, Seamus followed. As did Cho.

'What about you, Ron?' Harry asked when Ron Weasley was the only one left.

The Redhead seemed torn. He obviously didn't want Draco to be there but he didn't want to be the only one left out either. 'If this is a game, Malfoy, I swear …' Ron snarled. His fists were clenched by his sides.

Draco shook his head, but he didn't say anything.

Harry thought this was probably for the best. If Ron was in a mood like this, it didn't matter what you said to him anyway.

'And _Harry_ is our leader!' Ron barked, glowering at Draco. 'If you have a problem with that or think you can buy yourself-'

'RON!' Harry interrupted sharply. Draco still didn't say anything, although Harry could easily guess how hard it was for the Slytherin to swallow down all the comebacks that were surely resting on his tongue at this very moment.

'Fine!' Ron huffed at last, stomping across the room to stand next to Harry. 'But that doesn't mean that I think it's a good idea, Harry. I hope you know that.'

'I know,' Harry said. 'Thank you, Ron. I appreciate it.'

Ron didn't reply.

'Well,' Harry said, rubbing his hands against each other. 'Let's continue, then.'

He turned around to Draco and asked: 'We are doing the Patronus Charm at the moment. Have you ever produced a Patronus before?'

'Can Malfoys even think nice thoughts?' Seamus piped up.

'Seamus,' Harry said warningly and the other Gryffindor made a resigning hand movement, but said nothing more. Harry pulled Draco into an empty corner. 'Let's practice over here,' he said, smiling encouragingly.

Draco nodded. He positioned himself with his back towards the walls, so that he was able to look across the entire room. When he pulled his wand from his sleeve, Harry saw that his hand was shaking ever so slightly. With a surge of affection, Harry silently vowed to hex anyone senseless who dared to even _look_ at Draco the wrong way.

_'Vote all you like,'_ Draco now murmured in an imitation of Harry's earlier words. '_But if you vote him out, you vote me out, too._ Honestly, Potter, could you get any more melodramatic?'

Harry grinned. 'Personally, I felt the _'With my life'_ bit was my peak.'

'Good point,' Draco agreed with a nervous smile.

'Anyway, _have_ you ever conjured up a Patronus before?' Harry asked.

Draco shook his head. 'No, not yet,' he said. He wasn't looking at Harry, however, but still surveying the other students suspiciously.

'Relax,' Harry whispered. 'They won't dare to try something funny.'

'Are you sure?' he asked. 'I have done 'something funny' to almost everyone in here before. At least once.'

'Would it relieve your conscience if you apologized to them all before we start?' Harry asked dryly.

'Pfff!' Draco snorted. 'I didn't say I _regret_ my deeds, did I?'

Harry chuckled. 'I guess you didn't.' He became serious again. 'Draco, why did you come here today? I have asked you so many times before and you always said it was too dangerous. Why now? Why today?'

Draco looked at him. 'You know why,' he said calmly.

Harry swallowed. 'Maybe I do,' he said. 'But tell me anyway.'

Draco laughed quietly. 'You just want me to be all melodramatic, too, Potter!'

'But you're _never_ melodramatic,' Harry complained. 'Sadly.'

'Fine!' Draco huffed. He folded both of his hands in front of his chest and tipped his head to the side, blinking in rapid speed. Harry giggled.

'I'm here to show you that our friendship is something that Voldemort can't ruin, Harry!' Draco lamented in a rather high and girlish voice, but quietly enough so that only Harry could hear. Harry laughed, but Draco's words had touched him deeply.

Apparently, Draco noticed.

'You won't start bawling all over me again, Potter, will you?' he asked in mock terror, winking at Harry.

'Shut up! What do you mean – _all over you -_ anyway?' Harry laughed. 'Thank you, Draco,' he added. 'Thank you! You have no idea how much this means to me.'

'Oh boy!' Draco said flatly. 'He _is_ going to start bawling all over me.'

Grinning, Harry pointed his wand at Draco. 'If you're not careful, _I_ will do something funny with you, Malfoy!'

'Naughty!' Draco retorted, waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Could we focus for a minute?' he asked, trying his best to keep a straight face. 'The Patronus Charm? Please?'

Draco's face immediately became serious, too. 'Yes. Right. Focus, Malfoy!' he whispered hectically. 'Focus, lest Potter does something _funny_ with me as soon as I have my back turned towards him.'

Again, he waggled his eyebrows in a rather suggestive manner and Harry burst out laughing.

'You're such a prat, Malfoy!' he giggled. 'IN YOUR DREAMS!'

'In _my_ dreams?' Draco asked. 'You mean in _your_ dreams, Potter!'

But suddenly Draco's expression became serious again and Harry could see it was not an act this time. He turned around and saw a silver otter gamboling towards them. Hermione followed, although she wasn't gamboling but looked rather nervous instead.

'Harry,' she whispered, tugging Harry's sleeve. 'Are you two actually practicing? Because, er, Neville could really use your help …'

Harry looked over at Neville Longbottom who seemed at the verge of tears, although Harry guessed that was only because he feared Draco Malfoy's wrath now and not because he still hadn't managed to produce a decent Patronus.

Harry nodded. 'Right,' he said. 'I'll go over and help him. Hermione, you will stay here and help Draco, okay? Cheers.'

Hermione blanched. Draco's face spelled murder.

Harry grinned. 'Good luck,' he said quickly and before either of them could protest, he turned around and walked over to Neville.

**_To be continued_**


	32. Growing Pains

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* * *

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**Disclaimer:  
**I'm not J.K. Rowling and Harry Potter isn't mine. Sadly.

**Authors' Note:**  
Sorry about the long wait, but I hope the length of this chapter makes up for it ;-).

* * *

Chapter 32  
**"Growing Pains"**

_Severus Snape barely looked up when Harry entered the dungeon. _

'_Evening, Potter. Come on in,' he greeted, waving Harry towards him with one hand, while he continued marking papers with the other. Harry closed the door behind him and slowly ambled towards the teacher's desk. _

'_Have you practiced, Potter?' Snape asked, still not looking up from his desk._

'_Not really,' Harry shrugged off-handedly. Then, he shrugged off his robes._

'_Hm,' was all Professor Snape said. 'Well, if you think that will get you through tonight's Occlumency lesson ...'_

'_Occlumency is not quite what I had in mind for tonight, sir,' Harry said as he loosened his tie and began to unbutton his white dress shirt._

'_What you did or did not have in mind, Mister Potter, is of no concern to me,' returned Snape patiently and without anger, still busy with the essays on his desk. 'You're here to practice Occlumency. End of story.'_

_Harry unbuckled the belt of his jeans. Stepping out of them, he calmly replied: 'Oh, but you _are_ concerned about what I have on my mind, Professor. You can't help it. You couldn't if you tried.'_

'_Unfortunately. That's why you're here, you insufferable brat,' Snape replied absently._

'_That's not what I meant,' Harry smiled._

'_And what, pray tell, did you mean, Potter?' Snape asked, finally looking up. His jaw dropped slightly as his eyes fell upon Harry, who was now clad only in a pair of boxers. Abruptly, he got up from his chair._

'_Potter! What the-'_

_Harry grinned. _

'_What I meant, Professor,' he said slowly, taking of his last item of clothing, 'is that you can't help being concerned about what's on my mind, because my mind is linked to yours.'_

_He carelessly threw the shorts aside and walked across the cold stone floor to where Severus Snape still stood frozen behind his desk. _

'_Isn't it?' Harry asked._

_He slid between the teacher and the table, so that their bodies were pressed against each other. Snape did not move and Harry felt himself getting hard instantly, when his naked skin made contact with the smooth fabric of the Potions master's black robes._

'_As it is,' Harry continued, lowering his voice to a whisper, 'being linked to each other by our minds and our souls is all very nice and all, but how about all those other body parts that could be … linked?'_

'_Harry!' Severus swallowed hard. 'You're not of age yet.'_

'_Okay,' Harry said brightly, shifting deliberately so that his hard-on was rubbing against the teacher's thigh. 'If you prefer me losing my virginity to some random teenager…! I can do that if you like, no problem! This is a boarding school; it's full of random teenagers and I'm sure I will find one who's available.'_

_He made to leave, but Severus held him in place._

'_Don't you dare,' he growled, holding on to Harry's right arm. His onyx eyes were sparkling dangerously and Harry didn't think he had ever looked better. Sexier. _

'_Why not?' he asked hoarsely. 'I could do it, you know? Fuck random students until you think I'm old enough for you. No?'_

_For a moment Severus Snape looked almost insane in his anger. Harry hadn't thought it was possible for his erection to harden, but now it did. _

'_Nobody is going to fuck you. Ever.' Severus snarled, tightening his grip on Harry's arm. 'But me. Nobody is going to _touch_ you. But me. Do you understand? You're mine, Harry. Mine!'_

_And before Harry knew what was happening, Severus had turned him around and pressed him down onto the table. The sharp edge of the desk was digging into his thighs and his painfully hard dick was scrubbing across the half-marked paper Severus had been working on._

'_Kinky!' Harry said. Pleased._

'_I'm going to come all over the First Years' homework,' he thought and the idea caused him to giggle, but the laughter died in his throat as soon as he felt Severus's bare erection pressing against his own naked arse._

'_Merlin!' he yelped. His fingers curled across the opposite edge of the table to steady himself, because his legs had seized to support his weight. Severus leaned over him now, his naked body in perfect alignment with Harry's own. The Gryffindor whimpered when he felt Severus's hot breath on his ear. Moaned, when the Potions master began to speak._

'_Tell me again, Harry, who is allowed to touch you?' Severus asked silkily and at the same time running a feather-light hand down the length of the teenager's body, coming to rest on Harry's arse._

'_You, only you!' Harry gasped. Every pore, every nerve of his body seemed to be on fire ... and he was loving it._

'_And who is allowed to fuck you?' Severus asked, giving Harry a little squeeze._

'_You, only you, Severus!'_

_Severus turned him around with one swift movement. 'Tell my why,' he whispered and began to nuzzle, suck and lick on Harry's neck with great vigor. Harry felt his pulse quicken under the Potions master's administrations and he moaned loudly, not giving a care in the world if anyone might hear him._

'_Tell me why, Potter!' Severus repeated more urgently, still paying particular attention to Harry's pulse point._

'_Because I'm yours!' Harry panted. 'I'm yours, Severus! YOURS!'_

'_That's right,' Severus replied calmly. 'You're mine. Only mine. And why, Harry?'_

'_Because we're soulmates, Severus!'_

… Harry opened his eyes. Breathing heavily, he turned his head away from the morning sun that was shining through a gap in the maroon curtains around his bed. And as the staccato beating of his heart slowed, an almost mischievous grin spread across his face and he began to stretch contentedly. But suddenly he froze and his grin curled into a rather pained expression before he threw aside the blanket and looked down on himself.

_Urgh._

Harry groaned and fell back onto his pillows. _'Great, just great!' _he thought, kicking free his legs. He winced at the feeling of the sticky fabric rubbing across his skin and pulled his wand out from underneath his pillow to dry his boxer shorts with a small cleaning spell.

_Better._

Afterwards he closed his eyes again, trying to preserve the few remnants of the dream that were still lingering above the surface of his mind. It had been a good dream.

_A good dream involving Severus Snape and lots of naked skin. _

Again, Harry began to smile. He blushed crimson when he remembered that he and Severus had scheduled another Occlumency lesson for tonight; certain he would never be able to look at the Potions master's desk the same way again. Mortified by the idea of the Severus Snape entering his mind and finding this particular dream - and oddly turned on by it, too.

'_Because we're soulmates, Severus!'_

Harry sighed. Then, he sat up and drew back the curtains.

_Time to get a shower, Potter. A cold one._

* * *

The girls all perked up when their teacher entered the classroom. They straightened in their seats and beamed towards the teacher's desk, ignoring the boys who rolled their eyes at them. Seemingly oblivious to any of his student's reactions, William Copley sat down on the table, facing them, while putting his backpack next to him. 

'Good morning, class!' he greeted with a dazzling smile.

'Good morning, William!' the students replied. The girl's chorus ended in a barely concealed giggle. The boys were less enthusiastic. Harry Potter yawned noisily. Then, he stretched his arms for good measure.

'Well, then!' William began brightly and pulled out a battered looking copy of "Your Prophecy told by the stars" out of his bag. Harry clicked his tongue (loud enough for everyone to hear) in an impatient manner that clearly said _'Not again'_. Next to him, Parvati glared at Harry, but she had long stopped nudging him for a warning. It was no use.

'Well,' William repeated. 'Take out your homework, you lot! Let's hear about your prophecies!'

Everyone dove underneath their tables and into their bags to take out their "Prophecies of the stars" essays. Harry did not move.

When the bustle had quieted down, everyone looked at Harry whose table was the only one empty of any books, binders or papers. They all knew what was coming now. It had been like this from day one. Apparently William Copley knew, too, because he didn't seem at all surprised when he asked: 'No homework, Harry?'

Harry looked at him. 'I'm afraid my dog has eaten it, Mister Copley,' he replied unblinkingly.

Draco Malfoy bit the insides of both his cheeks to stop himself from laughing. He hadn't counted, but guessed that Harry had about reached number fifteen on his seemingly endless list of "The world's lamest excuses for not having done my Divination homework" now. The other boys who glanced at Harry were wearing an almost awed expression on their faces and a few of them chuckled openly. Only the girls looked very displeased, shaking their heads at Harry.

'There isn't a single dog at Hogwarts, Harry,' said William Copley almost sadly.

Harry's face broke into a grin. 'There is!' he said happily. 'He's twenty feet tall and has three heads. His name is Fluffy.'

The class erupted into laughter. Even some of the girls couldn't help but smile at the mental image of a three-headed, giant monster named Fluffy. Trust on Harry Potter to come up with something that absurd!

William Copley sighed. He mustered Harry for a long moment (Harry returned his gaze just as calmly) and then said: 'You're just like your father, Harry. It's almost startling.'

'Am I really?' Harry replied, sounding pleased. 'Did he also think that stargazing in search for your _prophecy_ is a waste of time?'

He comically wiggled his head and flailed his hands about when he said the word "prophecy" as if he found the concept to be really spooky. At that gesture, Draco finally let out the highly undignified snort of laughter he had been holding for so long. The rest of the class (particularly his fellow Slytherins) stared at him, thoroughly bewildered, but the few DA members among them, who were in on the secret of the friendship that had formed between Draco and Harry, burst out laughing, which seemed to confuse the Slytherins even more. Only Parvati slumped down in her seat and hid her face behind her hand as though she was embarrassed to even _know_ the bespectacled boy next to her. Harry, on the other hand, still smiled serenely at William Copley, looking completely unfazed. Draco grinned.

_You may lack the subtlety of a Slytherin, Potter, but you'll certainly make a good Malfoy._

'I'm sure he did,' William said now in reply to Harry's question. He took out his little notebook and his quilt and scribbled down something that not only Draco suspected to be yet another T.

_T for Troll._

'Well, who wants to read their homework?' William Copley asked, forcing his frown back to a smile, and began to look around the class in search for a volunteer. Draco raised his hand.

Copley looked at him in surprise. Even though Draco Malfoy's reluctance to participate in his lessons did not by any means match that of Harry Potter, he hadn't exactly been an unproblematic student either.

'Draco, yes, _please_!' William exclaimed brightly. 'What did the planets tell you?'

Draco straightened up and cleared his throat importantly. Then, he neatly folded his hands in front of him and began to read: 'Last night's Saturn-Pluto opposition on the 2nd/8th house axis, in a T-square with Mercury in the 10th, in my opinion, showed very clearly …'

He looked up at William Copley, who beamed back at him, nodding encouragingly. 'Very good, Draco!' he said happily. 'Go on, go on!'

'… showed very clearly that Harry James Potter is going to fail Divination this year.' Draco improvised, leaning back in his chair and looking very accomplished.

Harry sniggered.

The Divination teacher hopped off the table and walked over to Draco's desk. He turned Draco's notebook towards him and skimmed it, his frown deepening by the second. After that, he walked back to his own desk, scribbled something on a piece of paper, folded it and handed it over to Harry.

'You and you, too, Draco,' he said gravely. 'Go to the Headmaster and give him this from me.'

Harry and Draco nodded, neither looking particularly upset, and sauntered over to the door.

'OOH, MALFOY, LOOK! IT'S A LOVE LETTER!' was the last thing the class heard from Harry before Draco closed the door behind them.

* * *

Albus Dumbledore's expression was inscrutable when he read William Copley's note that Harry had handed over to him. Finally, he pushed his half-moon spectacles back up his nose and looked first at Harry and then at Draco, who were both sitting in the two armchairs in front of the Headmaster's desk. Still, neither of them seemed particularly worried. 

'Professor Copley-' Dumbledore began.

'William!' Draco and Harry interrupted him in perfect unison.

'I beg your pardon?'

'William,' Draco repeated. 'He prefers to be called William.'

Dumbledore smiled. '_William_,' he started anew, 'seems to feel that neither of you paid his lesson the necessary respect. Particularly you, Harry.'

Harry and Draco both stared down on their shoes, knowing they would both start laughing if their eyes met now. But laughing in front of William Copley was one thing, laughing in front of Albus Dumbledore another.

'Harry?' Dumbledore asked softly. 'Do you have anything to say?'

Harry didn't answer right away and Draco guessed that the Gryffindor was silently trying to formulate a politically correct reply that would not sugarcoat his _distaste_ for the new Divination teacher, but still be polite enough towards their Headmaster, whom Harry had a lot of respect for.

_For whatever reason._

'What could I possibly say?' Harry finally surrendered. 'He's right. I don't pay his lessons the necessary respect - or any kind of respect. Nor him for that matter.'

_To hell with political correctness. _

Out of the corner out of his eyes, Harry saw Draco quiver and knew that the Slytherin was laughing silently. He quickly bit his bottom lip in order to not start giggling, too.

'You don't believe in prophecies, then?' Dumbledore wanted to know of them. He looked at Draco who didn't answer right away. But after a moment the Slytherin's eyes narrowed and he very carefully replied: 'I do, sir. I believe that a prophecy can be a very dangerous weapon if delivered to the wrong person.'

Dumbledore looked at Harry. 'And you, Harry?' he asked. 'Do you believe in prophecies?'

Harry shook his head. 'I don't believe in prophecies, I don't believe in horoscopes, I don't believe in crystal balls or tarot cards or tea leaves and I don't believe in destiny!' he said defiantly. 'No future is written in stone. Future is what you make of it! My destiny is what _I_ want it to be and not what some William Copleys or Sibyll Trelawneys are telling me is awaiting me. Divination is a whole lot of-'

He stopped himself just in time. 'You know …' he finished with a vague movement of his hands. Draco smirked.

Dumbledore got up from his chair. 'That's an interesting point of view, Harry,' he said thoughtfully. 'Coming from you.'

Harry frowned. 'What do you mean, Professor?'

But Dumbledore didn't reply. He seemed in deep thought. Harry looked over at Draco, but the Slytherin was studying Dumbledore with an equally far-off expression on his face.

'Excuse me, sir,' Harry insisted. 'But what do you mean by "coming from me"?'

As suddenly as it had appeared, Dumbledore's unusually grave behavior disappeared again. 'Well,' he said cheerily. 'You're the Boy who lived after all, Harry! I dare say that you hold the unbeaten record of having the most prophecies ever attached to your name. Of course, the majority of those would be,' he copied Harry's earlier hand-movement, '… _you know_!'

Albus Dumbledore winked at Harry, but Harry did not return his smile. 'The majority, sir?' he asked suspiciously. 'And what about the rest?'

Dumbledore gave him a long, almost piercing look, but then he merely smiled once more. 'That remains to be seen, my dear.'

* * *

'I don't know what you're complaining about, Potter. At least he didn't give us any detention. _Expecto Patronum_!' 

Draco sighed deeply when nothing happened and began to inspect the tip of his wand. 'You know, I don't think this thing is working correctly,' he mused. Harry laughed when Draco repeatedly slapped his wand into the palm of his left hand as if that could dissolve some kind of blockade inside the magical instrument.

'Just try again,' he told his friend. 'And I'm not complaining.'

Draco's right eyebrow arched. 'Are you telling me you're _not_ disappointed that Dumbledore didn't order you to take 'Remedial Divination' lessons with Hogwarts' Heartthrob?' he joked with mock disbelief.

Harry grimaced. 'That's not what I meant. Don't _you_ think Dumbledore's behavior was weird?'

'Harry,' Draco said very matter-of-factly. 'Dumbledore _is_ weird. He's famous for being weird. So yes, I thought the old man's behavior was appropriately … weird.'

'No!' Harry whined. 'Weirder than usual, I mean. The way he asked us about prophecies. And this whole "coming from you" and "that remains to be seen" bit. What was that all about?'

Draco didn't look at him.

'Well, what he said. You're the Boy who bloody lived, Potter! Clairvoyants all over Britain were having a field day the day you got _that_,' Draco replied, pointing at the lightning bolt on Harry's forehead. 'Now, could you focus for a minute, scar-face?' He waved his wand in front of Harry's nose and added: 'On my still non-existent Patronus? _Please_?'

Harry smiled. 'Draco, no offence, but the DA is going to begin in less than fifteen minutes and if you're thinking of being able to produce a corporeal Patronus until then, I must tell you that-'

'A what?' asked Draco.

'A _corporeal_ Patronus,' Harry repeated rather smugly, grinning.

'What in the name of Merlin is a _corporeal_ Patronus, Potter?'

'It means physical,' Harry explained, omitting that he had looked up the word himself after he had first heard it from one of the members of the Wizengamot. 'You know, a Patronus that has a real form. A body.'

'I know what _physical_ means, Potter!' Draco huffed - and not without rapping his wand lightly on the Gryffindor's head. It was enough of a sign of his affection that he had admitted to not knowing something in front of Harry, there was no need to let the Golden Boy become bigheaded! 'Anyways, I'm not aiming to produce a _corporeal_ Patronus,' he added then with dramatic emphasis on the newly-learned word.

Harry grinned. 'Oh, you're not?' he asked interestedly. 'Is that so?'

'Yes,' Draco replied pointedly, raising his chin up high. 'That is so.'

'And what,' Harry asked, copying Draco's aristocratic manner, 'pray tell, are you aiming to produce, Mr. Malfoy?'

Draco's shoulder slumped. 'Anything but this pathetic puff of smoke. It's tiny! It's embarrassing,' he mumbled and Harry laughed at his sudden change of behavior. But he knew that Draco was serious. Not being able to produce a Patronus, when even Neville Longbottom was able to produce more vapor than him, really annoyed him. Harry could think of only one worthy advice, but he had stopped giving it to Draco. Being told that he wasn't thinking happy enough thoughts seemed to grate the Slytherin even more than his inability to make this particular charm work. But when Draco didn't even manage to produce silver vapor for the fourth time in a row, he carefully suggested:

'Draco, how about you … erm … try using a different memory?'

Draco dropped his wand to look at him.

'I'm not saying the thought you've been using so far isn't happy enough,' Harry quickly added. 'But maybe you want to look for a different kind of happy.'

'A different kind of happy?' Draco echoed. 'What, you don't suppose my memory of last weeks' little _earthquake_ isn't happy enough?'

'Funny!' Harry snapped. 'And that's _not_ what you're thinking of.'

Draco grinned. 'How do you know?'

'I just do!'

'Are you _ever_ going to talk to me about what happened in this room last week, Potter?'

'No.'

Draco's amused smirk softened. 'You know that you can't ignore things forever by not talking about them, do you?' he asked in a tone he hoped didn't sound condescending, even though it was very hard not to be condescending when Harry Potter acted the part of a stubborn Five year old so perfectly.

'I can!' Harry scowled. 'Watch me.'

* * *

_**:Flashback:**_

He could tell that Granger was nervous and that made it easier to pretend that he wasn't nervous at all. After all, why should he be nervous? He was a Pureblood about to be lectured by a Mudblood. And not just any Mudblood either. HER.

_No reason to be nervous._

Plus, he was the only Slytherin amongst a group of Hogwarts idealists who called themselves 'Dumbledore's Army' – a teenage cavalry fighting on behalf of a withering lunatic with a horrible fashion sense, Draco thought, unable to stop himself from mustering the students around him suspiciously. Was Seamus eying him funnily? Did Ron plan to Stupefy him? Or worse?

_No reason whatsoever._

But 'Dumbledore's Army' was nothing but a badly chosen name, wasn't it? After all, it wasn't like the Headmaster had recruited any of them himself and Draco certainly wasn't going to fight _anyone_ on the old man's orders. And he certainly, _certainly_ wasn't going to fight _for_ him. He was only here because he wanted to learn how to best protect his family. And because he had known it would make Potter happy.

_So, I'm nervous AND sentimental now. I'm spending too much time with Potter!_

Hermione Granger's voice pulled Draco from his thoughts. 'Erm … Draco?'

'WHAT?' he barked and Hermione flinched, her eyes jumping to Draco's wand that was now pointing at her chest. Upon realizing this, Draco lowered his hand immediately.

'Sorry,' he muttered, hating himself for the blush that crept up his neck. 'I guess, I'm a bit-' He stopped, embarrassed.

_Way too much time with Potter, way too much!_

Hermione relaxed visibly. 'Jumpy?' she offered with a small smile. Draco bit back a scathing reply - Malfoys were _not_ jumpy! - and nodded jerkily.

_Nervous, sentimental _and_ honest. Next, the Sorting Head will ask to re-sort me into Gryffindor._

'I don't blame you,' Granger continued with a sideways glance at Ron and a bunch of DA members who were all huddled in the opposite corner, whispering and glancing as suspiciously at Draco as he did at them. 'I think it was very brave of you to come here today.'

Her last words came tumbling out in a rush and she blushed a little, but did not avert her eyes as Draco narrowed his own at her. But the openness of her gaze was so vulnerably honest that it completely disarmed Draco and robbed him of his last chance to hide behind a standard snide remark of how he couldn't care less of a Mudblood's opinion of him, thank you very much.

'Er, _thanks_?' he tried and Hermione's smile broadened until he she laughed.

Draco didn't know what surprised him more: the fact that Hermione Granger dared to laugh at him in a way that came terribly close to Harry's _'You're such a moron, Draco, and I have long stopped taken you seriously!'_ chuckle or the fact that he didn't mind half as much as he thought he would. Should.

'Practice?' Hermione reminded him of their task, waving her wand once.

Draco nodded gloomily and after one last look at Harry, who was still mollycoddling Longbottom (_Gits. Both of them.)_, Draco got in position. He briefly shook out both of his arms, rolled his neck and then raised his wand. 'Now what?' he asked.

'You have to think of the happiest thing you can think of. A memory or wish, maybe,' said Hermione, and for some reason this instruction seemed to make her more uncomfortable than their entire previous exchange. 'And once you do, you say _Expecto Patronum_.'

'Expecto Patronum,' Draco repeated quietly. 'Okay.'

But suddenly he lowered his wand again. 'And your Patronus is a silver otter?' he asked in an attempt to stall time. Draco didn't like casting first-timers in front of others in case they went wrong and casting an advanced spell as this that was bound to go wrong in front of _HER_ …

_Thanks, Harry. Thanks a lot._

'Could you show it to me again?' Draco asked.

If the Know-it-All saw through him or thought his sudden interest strange in any way, she didn't let on, which Draco was grateful for. Hermione simply smiled and quite happily conjured up her silver Patronus once more. The otter was soon romping around and between their legs and soon began to develop a great interest in Draco's calves.

'GRANGER!'

Laughing despite of himself, Draco turned around his own axis a couple of times, trying to escape the Patronus, but mindful not to tread on the silver vapor, which seemed wrong somehow.

'GRAN-'

But suddenly time seemed to freeze along with the next protest in Draco's throat, when he realized that everything around him had gone eerily silent, almost as it had upon his entering the Room of Requirement. But this silence seemed to go deeper somehow. The otter vanished at his feet at the same time as Hermione's wand fell out of her limp hand, the noise swallowed by the soft carpet. Frowning, Draco looked up at her and only now did he notice that the bushy-haired girl was bathed in a bright, shiny blue light.

For a moment Draco suspected that somebody had petrified her – had stunned everybody in the room if the silence around them was anything to go by – but then Hermione's jaw dropped slightly, so that her mouth was forming a small O of surprise. But that movement did not ease the rapid drumming of Draco's heart inside his continuously tightening ribcage at all.

_Harry!_

Something had happened. Maybe no mass petrification, but … _something_.

_Harry!_

Draco whipped around frantically to search for his friend, but like Hermione he all but froze when his eyes fell on the grotesque scene in front of him. His trained senses, however, instinctively understood what had happened.

What was still happening.

In front of him and Hermione, a man-high wall of bright blue light had appeared. It was shiny yet transparent and seemed to be pulsing like some kind of liquid; alive. On the other side of that wall Draco could see Seamus, Ron, Lavender and Cho, who all had their wands raised; pointing right at him. Draco guessed they had been waiting with baited breath for the first moment he would finally turn his back on them and had used the chase Hermione's Patronus to collectively throw their spells at him. Harry, however, had stopped them.

Was still stopping them.

He stood in the middle of both parties, in front of one end of the blue wall, a few meters to their right - like the referee of a tennis match that kept a close watch on the net. One of his arms was outstretched, his fingers pointing towards the ceiling, and Draco knew that Harry himself was the source of the shiny blue wall. _Shield_, he mentally corrected himself with a surge of pride. Harry was _shielding_ him … with nothing but a single outstretched hand.

_His hand. No wand. Only his hand. Wandless._

Draco's mind repeated these facts, but that didn't make the picture in front of him any easier to believe. Apparently, Neville Longbottom agreed. With an expression stuck somewhere between fear and awe, he alternately gaped at Harry, at Draco, the 'Foul Foursome' and back again. Neville's expression, Draco saw now, was mirrored on every other student's face in the room, but nobody made a sound.

Draco looked back through the blue shield at Ron, Seamus, Cho and Lavender.

'_Why do they still point their wands at me? Have they gone mad?'_ he wondered fleetingly. _'Do they really think they can break through that wall? Do they really think that Harry will let them hurt me?'_

Once more Draco was filled with a childish, self-righteous glee, so powerful that he physically had to restrain himself not to start an impish dance and chant _Na-na-na-na-na_. That's why he noticed only _after_ he had successfully fought the urge to stick out his tongue at Ron and the other three, that they were actually _pulling_ at their wands instead of _holding_ them up still. It was as though Harry's blue shield was a magnet these four wands were unable to resist.

Four thin, blue threads now separated themselves from the pool of light, aiming straight for each of the four wands that were still pointing at it. At Draco. But each of the threads seemed to be meeting an invisible barrier before they actually met the tips of the student's wands and, one by one, four little explosions went off like small, neon-blue fireworks.

'_The spells!'_ Draco thought. _'Those strings are destroying their hexes!'_

Only after these four, little explosions were Ron, Seamus, Lavender and Cho able to lower their wands. The blue wall between them dissolved and, promptly, the four pupils toppled to the ground – whether from exhaustion, pain or fear, Draco didn't know and he couldn't have cared less. He moved forward, wanting to rush over to Harry, who still stood rooted to the spot (_Make sure he's alright, thank him, snog him senseless, be his eternal servant.)_ but a small hand on his shoulder held him back.

'Are you okay?'

Draco turned around. Granger seemed to have snapped out of her reverie along with the others and now looked at him with a very worried expression on her face, which Draco for the life of him couldn't understand. Why worry? And why about _him_?

'Huh?' he voiced his confusion.

'Did they hit you?' Hermione elaborated, her eyes traveling up and down his body - searching for hex injuries, Draco realized.

_Yet another reason to turn around and Na-na-na-na-na Ronald Weasley._

'No, I'm fine. Harry, he-'

He stopped mid-sentence, when the earth began to suddenly shake underneath his feet. And even though the shaking wasn't all that severe, surprise and reflex made Draco and Hermione automatically grab each other's arms to stop themselves from falling.

'What the-?' Draco gasped, looking at the grey carpet first, then at the rattling shelves around and the swaying lamps above them.

'Harry!' Hermione yelled, crossly. 'Stop it!'

_What? HARRY? What?_

Flabbergasted, Draco followed Hermione's reprimanding gaze and stared at Harry, who was still standing where he had only seconds before. Only now he held both of his arms stiffly at his sides, his tightly clenched firsts pointing towards the floor. He was all but glowing with anger, his flashing green eyes glaring at the four students lying in front of him. When Draco understood that this pandemonium was Harry's doing, too, he felt a strange twitch in his stomach. Excitement, reassurance, protectiveness, love, hope – it could have been any one of these emotions, maybe all at once. The room abruptly stopped shaking, but the air was still cackling with magic. Whatever little doubts Draco had had left of Harry's ability to live up to his destiny, they were gone now.

Right now, Harry Potter was Wrath Incarnated.

It was true. The lore, the legends, the rumors, the prophecies – all of which Harry himself knew mostly nothing about – it was _all_ true. Harry Potter was the Dark Lords only match! He _would_ save them all and he would survive.

But right now, the Dark Lord wasn't here to fight against. Only a couple of stunned students, four of which looked ready to pee their pants any second now. Someone had to calm Harry down before anybody got hurt. Draco would have given _anything_ to see Harry curse Ron (_How about a Crucio, maybe? Just a little one?_), but he knew Harry would never forgive himself once he … came to his senses.

Hermione's stern yells didn't do anything to achieve that, however. The twins hesitantly reached out for him in an attempt to touch Harry's shoulders, but backed off in the last second. They didn't dare to touch him like this. Draco didn't blame them, but it wasn't _them_ Harry needed now anyway.

Quickly he crossed the room, but even before he had reached Harry, the Gryffindor began to speak.

'Don't you ever – _ever_ – try to hurt him again!'

Harry's voice was loud, clear and surprisingly calm as he looked down on the four students that were still sitting on the floor.

'Mate, we were just-' Ron began weakly, but Harry cut him off: 'If you do, then Voldemort will be the least of your worries.'

Seamus gulped audibly and Draco whooped silently.

'And while we're at it, the same goes for anyone in here who contemplates mentioning Draco's membership or our friendship to anyone outside the DA,' Harry continued evenly. 'In fact, I don't want you to talk about it at all. If Draco ever gets into trouble over this … oh, you don't know what else I'm capable of.'

He looked long and hard at everybody in the room until his piercing gaze came to rest on Ron, Seamus, Lavender and Cho again. 'Did I make myself clear?' he asked in a tone that could have almost seemed friendly.

'Crystal,' Ron and Seamus mumbled, getting up from the floor at last and looking anywhere but at Draco and Harry. Their movement seemed to be a sign the others had been waiting for. Life reclaimed their small group and Draco swore he could _hear_ the tension rushing out of the room.

'Well!' George (or maybe it was Fred) smiled. 'Where were we, brother? Oh yes, the Patronus!'

The twins went off into their previous corner and began to continue their practice right away. The other students followed their example and re-formed their own little groups. Only Ron, Seamus, Cho and Lavender seemed unsure of whether they should stay or go. Where they _allowed_ to stay?

Draco turned around to look at Harry.

'Merlin's beard, Potter, what a show!' he grinned, thumping Harry on the back. 'Soon you'll ask to be re-sorted into Slytherin, huh? However, and I truly hate to disappoint you, you're a tad too drama for us!' Draco nudged Harry good-naturedly, before putting an arm around the other boy's shoulders and giving them a squeeze.

_Thank you, Potter!_

'I want to get out of here,' Harry said quietly. He sounded ill. 'Get me out of here.'

'Let's go,' Draco said and without a second glance at Hermione or the others, he led Harry out of the room.

_**:End of Flashback:**_

* * *

'Do you regret what happened, Potter?' Draco asked quietly, not looking at Harry but instead fiddling with his wand. 

Harry ran a hand through his black hair. 'I don't want to talk about it!' he said loudly. 'OKAY?'

'Harry-'

'Draco!'

'For Merlin's sake, Potter, but I want to talk about it! Maybe I _need_ to talk about it, so could you please come off that high horse and-'

Harry's answer was a frustrated groan, before he began to yell: 'Look, you think I know what happened, but I don't! You think I was in control of the situation, but I wasn't! I can make the fucking _earth_ shake when I'm furious, great, but I don't know how, it just happens and I have no idea how and I can't control it either! And you know how I told the others they wouldn't know what else I'm capable of? Well, neither do I, imagine that! That blue thing … I've never seen it before! I have no idea what I can do when I'm angry enough. What kind of freak does that make me? What if I had accidentally killed someone?'

Here, Harry finally ran out of breath and Draco took the chance to reply: 'That's troll dung, Potter, and you know it! That 'blue thing' wasn't hurting anyone, it was protecting! Me!'

Harry's scowl immediately softened. 'Yes, I know. And that's not the part I'm sorry about, even though I have no clue of what I _did_ to conjure up that … wall.'

'Shield,' Draco corrected and Harry smiled.

'Shield, then. But Draco, you don't understand! I was _ready_ to hurt them! I wanted to; I _really_ wanted to hurt someone that moment. Anyone. It wasn't just that I hated _them_ for attacking you; it was as though _all_ of my anger at _everybody_ came out that moment. I was so angry! If they had made just one more move towards you … I was so angry …,' he repeated weakly before his voice finally trailed off.

'You're nothing like him, Harry!' Draco said simply.

Harry looked at him, but said nothing.

'You're not a ruthless killer and, as far as I can see, in no immediate danger to become a wacky psycho with an ego problem and a plan to wipe the earth clean of all Muggles,' Draco continued firmly, certain he had discovered the heart of Harry's worries. Harry's lack of protest confirmed his suspicion.

'Is anyone behaving differently around you?' Draco asked Harry. 'Does anyone seem to be overly scared of you? _No!_' he answered his own question. 'Even Longbottom doesn't treat you any differently and that must account for something! Okay, so maybe the Weasel and Seamus are a _little_ afraid of you now, but wasn't that the point? And Cho and Lavender? Not that you'd care, but I'm telling you, Potter, girls _dig_ the whole bad boy thing! I'm a Malfoy, I know what I'm talking about.'

Draco was glad to finally see a smile on Harry's face.

'And as for the whole 'discovering magic you didn't know you had in you and not knowing what else you're capable of' part?' Draco went on and Harry nodded, looking expectant. Draco grinned broadly and winked at him.

'Welcome to wizard puberty, Potter!'

* * *

It was ten to eight when Harry pocketed his wand, officially ending today's DA meeting, and told his friends he had to leave now. His further elaboration that Snape and 'Remedial Potions' were waiting for him, earned him a couple of amused glances from the fellow members and catcalls from Fred and George; the latter of which Harry gracefully ignored by blushing brilliantly, making an obscene hand-movement and lastly stumbling out of the Room of Requirement. Draco grinned, pushed his own wand up his sleeve and hurried after the Gryffindor. 

'Mature exit, Potter!' he called after Harry. 'Real mature!'

Harry (his memory of last night's rather graphic dream of his Potions master awakened by George and Fred's lewd comments) didn't bother to reply, but stopped until Draco had caught up with him and together they went down the next two flights of stairs in silence.

'Hey Draco, aren't we being a little careless here?' Harry finally asked. 'What if somebody sees us together?'

He nudged Draco and smiled at him – completely unconcerned and hopeful. It took Draco some effort to fix his trademark sneer on his face and drawl: 'What in Merlin's name are you talking about, Potter? Just because you and I share the same way down to the Dungeons, because _you_ are so daft you need extra Potions lessons, doesn't make us best friends all of a sudden.'

Harry's face fell.

'Yeah, okay, I got it,' he mumbled and fixed his gaze on the stairs that lay in front of them.

'Potter!' Draco sighed, quickly looking around to make sure they weren't overheard. 'Look, I've come to the DA meetings like you asked me to. I'm trying, okay? My father would have a heart attack if he knew what we're doing here. We have to be careful; we can't just turn everything around all of a sudden. Not until … until …'

'Until somebody manages to kill Voldemort?' Harry asked bitterly.

'Somebody. Yeah …' Draco echoed with a sigh.

_Geez, can't somebody finally inform the Golden Boy of his task to save the world? _

'I HATE HIM!' Harry spat suddenly, with such vehemence that Draco looked up in surprise. 'That's good,' he said somewhat weakly, unsure of how to reply correctly to such an outburst. 'You just … go on hating him. That's good! Just don't make the earth shake again, okay? These moving stairs are dangerous enough as it is!'

Draco grabbed the banister in mock fright and Harry smiled again, which Draco was glad to see. He was also glad to see that Harry obediently stopped grinning, when two Hufflepuffs joined their way downstairs and hid a smile himself. It was a miracle that not everybody looked right through the Gryffindor.

_He's so bloody obvious._

Down in the dungeons their ways parted. 'Have fun, Potter!' said Draco loudly, his voice layered with as much contempt as possible, but he winked at Harry before he disappeared inside the Slytherin common room.

Harry sighed and bracing himself (straightening his robes, driving a hand through his hair and knowing it was useless), he stepped in front of Severus's classroom. He was about to knock, when he heard a voice inside.

William Copley's voice.

Harry made sure that no Slytherins were near to see what he was doing, pressed his ear against the thick door (ignoring the Sphinx's mildly reprimanding gaze from the opposite door with an apologizing grin) and listened:

'I even sent him and your godson to the Headmaster today, but I doubt that made much of an impression. Can't you talk to him, Severus?'

'You want me to talk to one of your students because he doesn't make his Divination homework? William, I'm asking you!' Severus Snape's tone was incredulous and Harry snickered silently.

'But he's not just any student, he …! I know you like the boy, Severus! He stayed with you during the holidays! He'll listen to you, I'm sure!'

Harry's stomach did a summersault. _'I know you like the boy, Severus.'_

'You think the boy is less insolent in _my_ class because I offered him a roof?' Severus asked sharply. 'You're wrong!'

Harry winced. Okay, so he would probably never learn how to properly chop wolfsbane or even brew Polyjuice on his own, but he wasn't insolent in Snape's class. Not anymore! He always delivered his homework on time and he paid attention, too. Severus knew this was true, he knew it!

'He's James Potter's son and about twice as arrogant!' Severus continued, his voice hard. 'You've met him and seen it for yourself! But if an impertinent brat like Potter is all it takes to give you sleepless nights, then perhaps you'll want to look for another job, Will!'

Harry's heart was beating violently.

_It's verbal Occlumency! He's pretending he still hates me. But he doesn't. Not anymore! He doesn't. He doesn't._

Desperately, Harry repeated these words over and over again, but that didn't stop the Potions teacher's previous words and the harsh reference to his late father from hurting him, even though Severus's indignation with his ex-lover appeased him a little.

'Oh, Severus, don't give me this!' Copley protested. 'How dense do you think I am? You may not believe I have a Third Eye, but I happen to have two very real and very healthy eyes right here. I know that Harry stayed with you for a reason. I've seen the way he looks at you and-'

'I DON'T HAVE THE TIME TO LISTEN TO YOUR COCK AND BULL THEORIES ANYMORE!' Severus thundered suddenly and Harry flinched, releasing the breath he didn't know he had been holding with a gasp. 'Potter stayed with me because Albus Dumbledore asked me to keep an eye on him after what has happened at the Triwizard Tournament and that's all there is to it!'

'SEVERUS TOBIAS SNAPE!' William yelled back as loudly as the other teacher had only moments before. 'YOU CAN DENY IT ALL YOU LIKE, BUT YOU FORGET THAT I HAVE KNOWN YOU LONG BEFORE HARRY POTTER WAS BORN. I KNOW WHO THE BOY IS, I KNOW _WHAT_ HE IS! I KNOW OF YOUR BO-'

* * *

Severus gripped the edge of his desk so tightly that it left marks in both his palms, but he didn't notice. Only in the last second had he cast a non-verbal Imperturbable Charm on the door he knew Harry to be leaning against and listening to their every word. 

But Harry would not hear about their bond from William Copley, oh no!

He silently cursed himself for the umpteenth time that he hadn't stopped his old friend from coming here. He was a cunning Death Eater spy, for crying out loud, he should have found a way!

'I'm tired of hearing about this supposed connection between me and James Potter's son, William,' Severus said now, forcing his voice to calmness. 'You're making a fool of yourself if you think that this CHILD is anything more than a student of mine. One of many students, that is. In fact, the only thing that makes this boy different from the rest is that damned scar on his forehead, so please spare me the details of your sick and twisted imagination at last, before I begin to worry about _your_ preferences.'

It was a blow below the belt, Severus knew, in more respects than one, and the Potions master was only too glad that Harry couldn't hear them anymore. William's mouth fell open and for a moment he wasn't able to form any kind of reply.

Severus did not feel sorry for him.

'I will not help you with this, William, you have to deal with James's son yourself,' he said coldly. Unnoticed to the Divination teacher, he then lifted the Silencing Spell and added loudly enough to give Harry the chance to scurry away from the door before Copley exited it: 'I trust that is all, William. Now, it's eight o' clock and Potter might turn up at any moment for his Remedial Potions lesson and I'd appreciate it if you'd let me get some work done until then.'

No sooner had he sat down behind his desk than a knock at the door announced Harry's arrival. Severus, who had expected that Harry would have preferred to enter the classroom after William Copley had disappeared, looked at the opening door with carefully concealed surprise and not without apprehension.

_How much have my words upset him?_

Harry Potter barely spared either teacher a glance as he shuffled into the room. His robes were hanging sloppily about his frame, his neck tie was untied, his hair messier than usual (which was saying something!) and his backpack was carelessly slung over his shoulder.

Severus smirked.

Knowing Harry as well as he did, he saw through the act immediately but to William, Harry must have looked the epitome of disinterest. Pride filled Severus, mixing with his relief. Harry had understood! He had understood that his harsh words were as much of an act as Harry's untidy appearance was now. And now his mate was using the opportunity to cement Severus's earlier lies in his very own way.

Harry grunted some unintelligible greeting and threw himself behind one of the students' desks, dropping his backpack next to him with much more noise than necessary. He sank down low in his chair, stretched both his legs from him and crossed his arms in front of his chest. He didn't look at Severus. Instead his gaze was fixed on some invisible point on the Potions master's desk. A blush steadily crept up his neck, but other than that his expression was one of utmost boredom and suddenly his cheeks hollowed briefly before a bright pink bubble of chewing gum appeared in front of his lips, growing larger and larger until it burst with a resounding _pop_. Severus bit his lips to stop himself from laughing out loud.

_Subtle, Harry._

This bubblegum was the finishing touch to Harry's picture of defiance and apparently the last thing that William needed to snap him out of his reverie (all this time he had merely stared open-mouthed at Harry as though the Gryffindor had just grown a second head). After one last, almost pitying look at Severus, the Divination teacher hastily bid his goodbye and fled the room. Grinning, Severus got up from his chair.

'It's quite a pity that Hogwarts doesn't offer any drama classes,' he said softly, walking around his desk towards Harry's. Harry still didn't look at him and he didn't seem to have heard him either, but was still looking at Severus's desk. The shadow of a smile was tugging at his lips and the blush had reached his ears by now.

_Three sickles for your thoughts, Harry._

But even though Severus had had no intention to actually intrude his young mate's thoughts, he got his wish when a mental image of himself and Harry suddenly flooded his mind a split second later. Both of them were stark naked and Harry was bent over the very same desk he was staring at right now, while he was standing behind him, leaning over him and whispering into the boy's ear.

'_And who is allowed to fuck you?'  
'You, only you, Severus!'_

But then Harry shook his head and their connection was lost. 'Huh?' he asked, blinking at Severus. 'I'm sorry, Professor, what did you say?'

Severus swallowed hard, now trying to clear his own mind of Harry's rather vivid daydream. He sat down on the chair to Harry's right and repeated: 'I said, it's quite a pity that Hogwarts doesn't offer any drama classes, Potter.'

Harry smiled faintly. 'I'm sure Draco would beg to differ. He thinks I'm enough of a drama queen as it is.'

'I can see where he's coming from,' Severus smirked and Harry sat up and sheepishly straightened his robes.

'It worked, didn't it?' he asked flatly, not looking at Severus. 'Your Ex is convinced that I really am an impertinent brat and that I really do treat you with the same amount of respect as I treat him. Zilch. Now he knows that you have no reason to like me whatsoever, Professor! Wasn't that your plan?'

Harry chose not to voice the fact that he had eavesdropped on his teachers' conversation and Severus chose not to voice the fact that he knew.

'Yes, Harry, that was my plan,' he said simply. 'And I'm glad you recognized it as such. After all, you know why we have to keep up the pretense of disliking, even hating each other. Until the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters are on the loose, this is the safest way for both of us.'

'I know,' Harry muttered, picking at the hem of his robes.

'William Copley was not supposed to know that you stayed with me during the holidays.'

Finally, Harry looked at Severus.

'Ah. So Lucius's invitation for a sleepover didn't happen out of the goodness of his heart, then?' he asked with a small smile.

'I wouldn't put it that way, Potter, but I admit that his invitation was strongly encouraged … by … _me_,' Severus grinned. Softly, he added: 'You and Copley were never supposed to meet each other, Harry.'

Again, the Gryffindor looked at Severus, but he seemed too surprised to say anything. He merely nodded.

Severus didn't quite know what had tempted him to finally talk to Harry about Copley, but he was glad that this semi-apology was finally out of his system. Ever since the Divination teacher had turned up at Snape Manor, William Copley had seemed to loom between him and Harry like the proverbial elephant in the room that nobody dared to mention first.

'Ready for some Occlumency?' Severus asked at last, forcing his voice back to normality and getting up from his chair. As soon as he had asked this question, an image of Harry undressing himself in the middle of this classroom popped into his head.

'_Occlumency is not quite what I had in mind for tonight, sir.'_

Severus and Harry cleared their throats in unison, neither looking at the other. Harry, who was unaware that Severus was able to see his memories of last night's dream as clearly as he did, recovered first.

'Yeah, okay,' he mumbled without real enthusiasm and got up from his chair.

With a few flicks of their wands, Severus and Harry cleared a big enough space of any tables until only one desk was left standing between them. Harry then sat down on it, his feet dangling above the ground, and watched as Severus went over to the Pensieve, in which the Potions master stored a few of his memories – a ritual that was well-known to both of them by now.

'Ready?' Severus asked Harry after he was done, but the teenager looked anything but.

'Is it true?' he suddenly burst out, again not meeting Severus's eyes.

'Is what true?'

'Did you only invite me to live with you, because Dumbledore asked you to?'

'No, Harry. That is not true,' Severus returned, amazed by his own calmness. It was happening, wasn't it? Harry was beginning to put together the pieces! He wouldn't give his mate any information he wasn't ready for yet, but if Harry came to him with any questions of his own, he would answer them truthfully. All of them.

'In fact, the Headmaster is rather upset that I have twice removed you from number four, Privet Drive without his knowledge or his permission. But I thought it best for everyone involved. I still do,' Severus continued evenly. 'I invited you to live with me because I _wanted_ to invite you, and I have every intention to invite you again for the next holidays.'

The happiness of Harry's smile made Severus's heart ache, but suddenly Harry's smile turned into a frown. 'His permission?' he repeated incredulously. 'Why would you need the Headmaster's permission? You had _my_ permission, wasn't that enough?'

Severus smiled. 'It was enough for me.'

_**To be continued …**_


	33. Kissing Harry

Chapter 33  
**"Kissing Harry"**

* * *

_**Excerpt of "Soulmates – In this world for you" by Byron T. Altheus:  
**'By the time both soulmates have reached the age of sixteen, they will inevitably become aware of the other one's existence - if it has not so happened before. The bond that has until then developed between the two mates will now drastically strengthen and be preserved for a lifetime. Once past the age of sixteen, a suppression of this process (i.e. infidelity, denial, or even outer influences physically keeping the two mates apart due to alleged race, age or gender barriers etc.) will in most cases end fatal to both soulmates. After their sixteenth birthday the separation from their Intended will pose a particular threat to the non-dominant part of the unit (presumably the younger one), who is at that point in time acutely dependent on their mate's presence, love and care.'_

* * *

**June 26, 1996 – 35 days until Harry's sixteenth birthday**

Only the glimmering air outside their windows spoke of suffocating heat, dry throats and looming headaches. Inside the walls of the Great Hall, however, a light magical breeze was blowing over the many students' heads that were bent over their homework. If it hadn't been for this particular spell, Harry guessed, they'd all be rather cranky by now. Or buried underneath heaps of fans and ventilators.

But Harry was pretty sure that even the full impact of this summer's first severe heat wave wouldn't be able to melt the grin off his face. In fact, right now while sitting in the sun-flooded hall, it was hard to imagine that anything ever could.

_Because life's actually pretty damn great!_

Granted, Ron's idea of turning the field by the lake into their Study Room instead of the ever old Great Hall had its appeal, but the teacher on watch duty very much preferred the shadowy confinement of Hogwarts over the open, blazing sun.

And thus so did Harry. Of course.

This teacher would have probably hexed the blinds in front of the grand windows shut, too, if he had been in the mood for the consequential chorus of a hundred and some outraged cries of complaint, Harry thought with a grin. But as it was, it was too bloody hot even for Severus Snape to provoke such an otherwise welcomed reaction.

'Young Harry?'

Harry looked up from his Transfiguration essay and saw the twins gazing at him with a mildly interested expression on their faces.

'George?' he asked amiably.

'You're doing it again,' George informed Harry while matching his exact same tone of voice.

'Doing what?'

'You're grinning like the Cheshire Cat without any apparent reason.'

'Am I now?' Harry asked, still looking and sounding nothing short of delighted.

'Yes, you are.'

'Well, look at that,' Harry sing-songed back with a wink at George.

A few seats to his left Dean snickered softly and some of his peers joined in. Conversations as this one had become a regular occurrence between Harry and either of them, after even the most unsuspecting Gryffindor among them had begun to notice that their banned Quidditch Seeker was in an exceptionally good mood these days; in a time when students were prone to throwing "OWL fits" left and right. But when asked upon it, Harry would only smile and shrug secretively and they were none the wiser. And, thus, notifying Harry of all his 'broad grins for no apparent reason' had quickly become something of a running gag among the Gryffindors.

Harry's closest friends, of course, knew the reason for Harry's good mood. The OWL exams were now finally over and done with, and the summer holidays were only a few days away. And for once Harry was as eager as his fellow students to get away from school. But the prospect of leaving behind William Copley, Dolores Umbridge (who had pretty much ignored him these last few months save from the odd detention for giving cheek) and her Quidditch ban, was only part the reason for Harry's anticipation. The main reason was that Professor Snape had now officially invited him for the summer holidays and Harry simply couldn't wait to return. What his friends didn't know, of course, was that the one thing Harry was more excited about than _staying_ at Snape Manor was _turning sixteen_ while staying at Snape Manor. Sixteen. The year it was all supposed to become clear.

_Who is my mate. Whom do I belong to. No more questions, only answers._

But even though the others were indeed aware of the fact that it was their Potions master who had him in raptures, Harry knew that he could trust even the twins to hold their dozen-and-one wisecracks involving Snape, Harry, the dungeons and a pair of handcuffs and _'So you call it 'Remedial Potions', don't you?'_ down to an unsuspicious minimum – in public anyway. Just like mentioning Draco and Harry's friendship was off-limits for every DA member, so was mentioning Severus to Harry in any other context than 'My! Snape's a greasy old git, isn't he just, Harry?' for his mates - and so far everyone in this elite group of people who knew that Harry was a regular guest at their Potions teacher's house had kept their promise. Even Ron, although Harry guessed that was mainly because he was still too grossed out by mere concept of his fancying Severus. A teacher. A man. An _old_ man.

Harry looked over at the redhead who was bent low over his own Transfiguration essay, his face screwed up in concentration. Or because the sun was blinding him, Harry wasn't sure.

Ever since his first return from Snape Manor, Harry's relationship with Ron had been a rather strained one. But even though Harry was hurt and irritated by his friend's all too apparent homophobia, he couldn't blame Ron for his animosity against Harry and Draco's friendship. He understood how difficult it must be for Ron to relinquish his position as Harry's best friend to none other than Draco Malfoy - although Harry couldn't help but privately argue that if Ron hadn't been such a dolt about it all, they would still be getting along just fine.

But it seemed that Ron had finally come to the same conclusion. Ever since the 'DA incident' where Ron and the others had tried to attack Draco from behind and Harry had protected the Slytherin with such an impressive, unexpected burst of magic, Ron seemed to be treating Harry with particular care. He hadn't explicitly apologized for his despicable behavior, but the energy Ron now put into acting as if nothing had ever changed between them was as good as a 'Sorry' for Harry. He had not yet forgiven Ron for raising his wand against Draco, but Ron's apparent willingness to finally learn and accept Draco among them meant a lot to Harry and so he wasn't going to make this any harder for Ron by sulking. True, they were walking on eggs around each other these days, but at least they were slowly reconciling.

Ron, feeling somebody's eyes on him, now looked up and Harry smiled lazily, wiping a bead of sweat from his brow. Ron smiled back and they both returned to their essays. When they were done, Ron gazed at the next book on the pile. Promptly, his nose curled with reluctance. 'Divination next,' he groaned, slowly pulling the heavy, old schoolbook towards him. Then, he pulled a new roll of parchment out of his bag and, reading out loud, he titled it with 'How prophecies influence our daily lives.'

'Jude Law's got it in for prophecies, doesn't he?' asked Harry. He pulled his own Divination book towards himself - all Gryffindors looked up from their own homework - and exclaimed: 'Now would you look at that! My Divination essay _just_ fell into the lake!'

Looking absolutely crestfallen, Harry dropped the Divination book into his backpack. The Gryffindors lowered their heads again; the girls murmuring irritably, the boys grinning. Fred and George chuckled.

'Who's Jude Law anyway?' Ron wanted to know as he watched Harry pulling out his Potions book instead and neatly spreading out his notes in front of him before importantly sharpening his quill.

'Some muggle actor of some car-crash movie,' Harry said. 'Copley looks rather like him. Well, sort of, anyway.'

'Some very _good-looking_ muggle actor,' Hermione said. 'And I don't think Mr. Copley looks like him at all, Harry,' she added.

'Well, thank you, Hermione,' Harry grinned. Hermione gave him the shadow of a wink before returning her attention towards her Arithmancy homework.

'Very good looking, eh?' Ron grunted at Herminone. 'Can't be that good looking if we've never heard of him, can he?'

'Well, he _is_ very good looking, actually,' Harry admitted as he opened his Potions book. Ron's face twitched momentarily, but he didn't say anything.

'Oh yes, he's _terribly_ attractive and he'll be very famous once day,' Hermione said very pointedly, narrowing her eyes in a way that was meant to show Ron that his intolerance would not be tolerated. 'You just wait and see, Ronald.'

'You do know that saying "muggle actor" is rather tautologous, don't you?' Fred suddenly mused. 'Since there are no actors that are wizards or witches.'

'Yes, there are!' Hermione said calmly.

'Are not.'

'Are too,' Dean Thomas chimed in. 'Angelica Houston. Now that's one fine witch.'

'Christopher Lee,' Hermione added, causing George to nod vehemently.

'I bet he was a Slytherin,' Harry guessed.

'No, he was actually in Durmstrang,' Hermione corrected. 'Victor told me.'

She pretended not to hear Ron's indignant splutter at the V-word and, leaning over to Harry, she whispered 'Hey Harry, haven't you opened it yet?'

She pointed at the letter that was sticking out of Harry's Potions book.

'Oh,' Harry said in a tone that suggested he had forgotten all about it. But as he looked up from his Potions homework, his face revealed the truth. It was a letter from Sirius and Harry, who had kept in touch with him only infrequently ever since he had left Grimmauld Place last summer, not only felt guilty about the fact that he had neglected his godfather so, but also because he strongly suspected the letter to be an invitation for the upcoming holidays. And Harry dreaded telling Sirius that he'd much rather stay with the Snape/Malfoy Clan … yet again. Therefore, Harry opened the letter with a substantial lack of enthusiasm.

'He invites me over for the summer holidays,' he informed Ron and Hermione. 'Says he guesses I'd prefer spending my birthday with him and Kreacher over yet another one with the Dursleys,' he added gloomily.

'Well, don't you?' Ron asked.

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Of course I do. I'd prefer a Christmas with _Umbridge_ over the Dursleys.'

Ron nodded his assent ('Who wouldn't?') and looked back down on his Divination book, while Harry stole a glance over at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was proofreading the homework of a small Slytherin, occasionally looking up and pointing out a mistake. The little boy stood next to Draco's chair and stared at the Slytherin king with a look of awe on his small face. Draco was very much aware of this, of course, and he looked rather smug as he liberally marked the paper in front of him with red ink.

Harry smiled. Some time ago, he would have gladly slandered Draco for this behaviour; too blind to see that the first year's eyes were bright with admiration instead of intimidation and that Draco was actually taking the time to explain his corrections instead of talking down on the child.

Lost in thought and gnawing on end of his muggle pen, Harry watched his friend from the Gryffindor table. What was he supposed to do? Draco would be so disappointed once he heard that Harry was going to spend these holidays at Grimmauld Place. The Slytherin had developed a great liking for mentioning the "ultra-special-super-cool-better-than-anything-and-very-secret present" that would be awaiting Harry this year every opportunity he found … and he found many. In fact, if there was one person who seemed more excited about Harry's turning sixteen than Harry himself, it was Draco.

Draco, apparently feeling somebody's eyes on him, looked up now. When he saw Harry looking at him, his upper lip obediently curled into the sardonic smirk that would be expected from him, but his right eye twitched into the shadow of a wink, unnoticeable to anyone but Harry. Harry, too tired to send a mock scowl and glare of his own, merely wrinkled his nose in return. This lazy attempt of a frown, of course, made him look about as malicious as a bunny rabbit and for some reason it made Draco laugh out loud, but the Slytherin recovered quickly by pretending he was amused by something the – now highly embarrassed – first year next to him had written in his essay. Draco's laughter, however, was enough to make Harry giggle himself. Without any energy to cover up or explain this spontaneous fit of laughter, Harry didn't even bother to hide it, but simply dropped his forehead onto the table and snickered into his godfather's letter.

'Poor lad,' Fred said, patting Harry on the back sympathetically, 'gone mad at last.'

His brother George shook his head, but looked equally compassionate. 'Sunstroke!' he said gravely. 'Not a doubt.'

Harry straightened up after a while in an attempt to recompose himself, but he only just managed to assure the twins that he was fine before his eye caught Draco, who rolled his eyes at him in such an exaggerative manner (saying 'Way to _not_ blow our cover, Potter!' to Harry and 'Merlin, how I hate this stupid git!' to everyone else) that it made Harry burst out laughing once more. But before he could resort to giggling at his table again, he heard a silky voice behind him say:

'Why am I not surprised that it is _your_ head that gives way to the heat first, Potter?'

An audible gulp from Neville. A chuckle of mirth from Draco.

Harry half turned and squinted up at his Potions master who stood illuminated by the sun that shone in through the windows behind him. Severus Snape looked down on him with a single cocked eyebrow as Harry tweeted back: 'That must be because you know me so well, Professor. It's uncanny, really, almost as if you can read my mind.'

Hermione stopped herself from gasping at this all too broad hint at Severus's Legilimency skills only with difficulty. Snape on the other hand showed no reaction, other than saying:

'Detention, Potter, tonight at eight. And ten points from Gryffindor for classmate's cheek.'

* * *

Harry spent the rest of the day trying his best to get Draco's attention and making him understand that he had something to tell him, but Draco either didn't see his numerous grimaces or was always surrounded by a gang of Slytherins that made it impossible for Harry to come near him. Even his message on the Tabulas Loquoram remained unanswered. 

Quarter to eight, Harry left the Gryffindor common room to go down to the dungeons for his detention with Severus, resolving to ask the Potions master to call in Draco as well, when suddenly he was pulled behind one of pillars of the Entrance Hall.

'Stalking me, Potter, aren't you?' Draco drawled, shoving him against the wall.

Harry grinned. 'And I thought I was being too subtle for you to notice …'

Draco snorted derisively. 'Subtle? Oh, you mean as subtle as the excuse you gave Severus to give you another detention tonight to cover up for your Occlumency lessons? Really now, why didn't you just ask "Could you kindly fuck me into the blackboard, Professor? Would tonight, eight p.m. suit you, maybe?"'

Harry coughed, his ears flushing bright red.

'You don't even know how to write subtlety, Potter,' Draco went on. 'By Salazar, even Crabbe and Goyle now think you want to get into my pants!'

'Do they now?' Harry returned, but with the mental image of him, Snape and a blackboard still lingering in front of his inner eye, the question didn't come out quite as cocky as he had hoped. Not to mention the fact that he _knew_ he hadn't exactly been "Mister Subtlety" today even without Draco telling him so.

Seeing the guilt creep into Harry's features, Draco teased: 'Well, they're right, aren't they? You do want to get into my pants! Don't you, Potter?' he asked, lowering his voice to a faux-seductive whisper.

Harry rolled his eyes.

'Yes,' he said, mocking enthusiasm. 'I can't think of anything else!'

Using his body to press Harry against the wall, Draco went on: 'You're obsessed with me, Potter. I've seen how you were looking at me all day. Probably fantasizing about me, right, Potter?'

Only the devious sparkle in Draco's eyes and the almost unnoticeable twitch of his left cheek told Harry that the Slytherin was having as much as difficulty not to laugh as he did. Now the only question was who would give in first.

'Yes!' Harry exclaimed dramatically. 'You're right. I can't help it! I spend every waking minute fantasizing about you, Malfoy!'

He wrapped his arms around Draco and started rubbing his hands up and down his back. The tell-tale twitching increased and Draco preferred not to answer for fear of laughing.

'But I just can't decide on my favourite fantasy of you,' Harry confided. 'It's just so hard! No pun intended.' Here, he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively to contradict his own words.

Draco let out a small giggle-snort, but quickly bit the inside of his cheeks. Harry, intent on breaking his friend's resolve, continued: 'It's either the one of me hexing your clothes off right in the middle of Dumbledore's office or the one of you riding my, all pun intended, broomsti-'

Grinning, Draco quickly interrupted him by pressing his flat hand over Harry's mouth.

'Dumbledore's office?' he repeated, clearly amused. 'That's very kinky, Potter, I didn't know you had it in you. Oops, no pun intended.'

Harry giggled against the palm of Draco's hand.

'And what would you do once you got me naked right in front of our Headmaster?' the Blonde asked interestedly.

'Muh-bub-wuh,' Harry replied, but since that reply was made rather unintelligible by Draco's hand, he decided to bring his point across by wrapping one of his legs around the Slytherin and resume the rubbing of his back.

Finally, Draco laughed out loud.

'You do know that we'd give the old man a heart attack if he caught us doing this, don't you?' he chuckled. Harry's eyes twinkled.

'Hmmm, I wonder what people might say if they caught me molesting the Golden Boy!' Draco asked thoughtfully and a second later he began to kiss the back of his hand that was still pressed upon Harry's mouth with great gusto. Squirming and laughing heartily, Harry finally managed to escape.

'How many times do I have to tell you that just because I'm gay, it doesn't mean that I want to get into _your_ pants,' he snickered while straightening his robes.

'You're breaking my heart!' breathed Draco, looking appropriately devastated. Then, grinning, he swatted Harry on the back of his head.

'Alright four-eyes, what did you want to see me so badly for? Other than hoping for me to fulfil your kinkiest of fantasies, that is.'

'Oh,' Harry said, sobered up rather quickly as he remembered what he had to tell Draco. 'I almost forgot. I … eh … I just needed to tell you … Well, I … erm …'

Only the imminent threat of Draco's hand descending onto his head once more brought back Harry's ability to speak in actual sentences: 'I just wanted to tell you that my godfather has asked me to spend these holidays with him. So … uh … it looks like I'm not going stay at Snape Manor after all.'

'Tell him you can't.' Draco said flatly. 'Tell him Sev has invited you first.'

Harry looked down at his feet. 'Well, I will ask Sirius if it is okay that I stay only for the first half of the holidays and if Severus gives green light, too, I'll come to Snape Manor in August.'

Draco stared at him.

'No!' he said firmly. 'Do it the other way round if you really have to, but come to us first.'

'I'd love to, but it's my birthday in July,' Harry argued.

'Exactly!'

'Sirius asked me to spend it with him. It seems really important to him and, Draco, I _have_ to do this. I've been horrible with keeping in touch with him lately and – oh gosh! – you have no idea how dreadful the place he's living at is. He's the only sane family member that I have and if I want to keep it that way, I have to spend some time with him again soon.'

'But you can't, Harry! Not this time!' Draco replied almost pleadingly. 'You're turning _sixteen_!'

Harry smiled. 'I know. But you could always owl my presents, you know?' he suggested jokingly.

'Presents?' Draco echoed with particular emphasis on the last letter. 'Who said you'll be getting more than one, Saviour? But trust me, Potter, that one present you'll get from me is ultra-special-super-cool-better-than-anything-and-'

'Very secret, I know!' Harry grinned. 'You've mentioned it once. Maybe twice. Maybe a hundred times, I'm not quite sure.'

* * *

**_June 17th, 1996 – 44 days until Harry's sixteenth birthday_**

_Everyone looked up from the pin cushions they were supposed to transfigure into a nosegay when Severus Snape entered the classroom after a firm but polite knock. _

'_Severus,' said Professor McGonagall with some alarm, peering up at the Potions master from behind her square spectacles. 'Is something the matter?'_

'_Not at all, Minerva,' Severus replied. 'But I will have to borrow Mr. Malfoy for a moment, if you don't mind.'_

_The Transfiguration teacher nodded quickly and both teachers turned to look at Draco, who had already gotten up and now followed his Head of house out of the classroom. _

'_I apologize for taking you out of class, Draco,' Severus said as they stepped down the stairs to the Slytherin dungeons. He didn't elaborate on his reasons any further, however, and Draco knew better than to ask. He knew it was enough for him to know that his godfather_ did _have a reason that he would be informed of soon enough. And so he merely rolled his eyes in reply._

'_Puh-lease! Valentine's Day was four months ago. Who in Merlin's name needs nosegays now?'_

_He paused suddenly, looked around to make sure that nobody could be listening and then leaned over to his godfather, whispering: 'Although I would gladly transfigure another pin cushion for you to give Harry on his birthday, of course.'_

'_Draco!' Severus hissed, quickly checking for eavesdroppers himself. When he saw they were alone, he merely clicked his tongue, looking somewhat amused._

'_My rooms,' he said as they reached their dungeons and Draco followed him. _

'_Hiya,' he greeted the portrait outside his godfather's door and the sphinx winked at him. When they entered Severus's private quarters, Draco's heart leaped uncomfortably in his chest. Lucius Malfoy was standing by the fireplace, his back turned towards them. Upon hearing them enter, he turned around and Draco rushed forward._

'_Father! Is something wrong?' _

Alarmed, Draco looked first at his father, then at his Potions teacher, who slightly shook his head as to tell him he needn't worry.

'No, no,' Lucius assured him of the same. 'I only needed to talk to you in private, Draco. Without any …' He stopped and eyed the walls around them suspiciously. 'Are you sure this room is safe?' he asked Severus, who looked almost offended.

'If I say it's safe then rest assured it is,' he huffed. 'None of these pictures are magical, save from the sphinx, of course, and as you very well know, she is loyal to no one but me and the mine.'

He pointed at the painting behind his desk that was almost identical - white sand, a blazing sun and a lone pyramid in the back - to the one that was hanging outside his door, with the only difference that this picture was missing the sphinx, since it was guarding his private quarters from outside right now.

'Very well,' Lucius nodded, sitting down in one of the two armchairs in the middle of the room. 'Sit down, Draco!' He motioned at the couch. 'You can stay, of course, Sev,' he added, when Severus turned to leave. 'this concerns the whole family after all.'

Severus smiled, but didn't say anything as he sat down on the armchair closest to Draco. When they were all seated, Draco again looked from one to the other.

'_What's going on?' _

Lucius looked down on his folded hands as if he was searching for the right words. Then, he abruptly got up from the chair to sit down next to his son, where he looked down on his folded hands once more.

'Well,' he began slowly. 'You probably know what I'm here to talk about, don't you?' He looked up at Draco, who shook his head in surprise.

'_I have no idea.' _

Lucius smirked. 'So the time-traveling Harry Potter hasn't told you anything?'

Draco's eyes narrowed suspiciously and after a quick glance towards his godfather (whose face gave nothing away, however), he asked: 'Told me what exactly?'

'I don't know,' Lucius shrugged nonchalantly. 'About how he became a member of this family, for example?' he then offered, causing Draco's jaw to drop a good two inches.

Once more he looked towards Severus, who was now unable to suppress a smile. Draco jumped up. 'A member of…! Father, are you serious?'

Lucius nodded, careful to look terribly afflicted as he did so, although his silver eyes were sparkling with humor. 'Yes,' he sighed. 'That devil of a woman you call your mother and this evil and cunning man here,' he pointed at Severus, 'have finally convinced me that even Lucius Malfoy stands no chance against destiny. And allegedly …' Here he sighed again rather impressively and looked up at the ceiling as if he was blaming it for his bad luck. '… allegedly destiny wants me to adopt that Merlinforsak-'

He was unable to finish his sentence, for Draco had already tackled his father into the couch and wrapped his arms around his neck. 'Thank you, dad,' he said, his voice muffled by his father's cloak. 'Thank you so much. Thank you!'

Surprised and a little uneasy by the unfamiliarity of such an open display of emotion, Lucius patted his son on the back. But when Draco still didn't let go of him after that, he returned his son's embrace. 'You're welcome, son,' he said, faltering. 'My – uh – pleasure.'

Draco released his father and laughed.

'Pleasure! Oh, but of course!' he grinned. But then he became serious. 'But it will be, dad. It will be. You won't regret this. Harry, he …' He stopped, fumbling for words. 'He's a good person. Honestly.'

For a moment Lucius didn't say anything. Then he sighed again, only this time it seemed sincere.

'_I know he's a good person, Draco,' he said. 'If he wasn't, he wouldn't be your godfather's mate. If he wasn't, he wouldn't have treated your mother and I with so much respect last Christmas. And if he wasn't, he wouldn't be so fond of my son.' _

'Father!' Draco protested with embarrassment, but Lucius continued:

'_I have watched Harry Potter very closely during these past months while he was staying with Severus and with us … and, just like your godfather here, I had to realize that my aversion against the boy was based on nothing but-' _

'_The knowledge that the Dark Lord isn't exactly a fan?' Draco interrupted with a smirk._

_Lucius's arched eyebrow replied with 'Very funny, son' and he continued: 'An ancient grudge I harboured against his father when we were teenagers. But in this time of change even I have to understand that it is time to the past behind. And although I will never be a fan of James Potter (and I doubt you will ever hear me saying a good word about him), neither he nor his son deserve it that Harry has to pay for his father's arrogance by spending another day with those demented Muggles he has to call his family.'_

'_Amen,' Draco replied, beaming at his father._

'_Besides,' Lucius went on with a sideways glance at Severus who still said nothing but looked rather satisfied with the progress of the conversation, 'Harry Potter will soon become a member of this family even without my doing …'_

_Draco turned to look at his godfather as well, grinning rather slyly as he did so, but all he said was a very pointed 'Uh-huh!'_

'… _but I figured it would be nice if we provided the Golden Boy with a real family even before he turns legal.'_

_Now, both Malfoys turned to grin at the Potions master, who pretended to be completely unaware of any possible allusion._

'_I figured with everything that Harry has and will have on his plate in the near future, he might do well to have a brother to stand by him. A mother and, yes, a father, too,' Lucius finished, clearing his throat._

_Draco smiled. A dozen and one wisecracks were dancing on his tongue, but he appreciated and admired what his father had just done too much to tease Lucius about what his mother possibly had done to force him into saying those things. All that mattered was that Lucius had finally come around (just like Future Harry had said he would) and that he truly seemed to want Harry in their family instead of just trying to preserve the family peace at home._

We're really going to be brothers.

'_Father,' he asked after a while, 'will it be dangerous for us to adopt Harry? For you? What if Voldemort finds out? Or the Death Eaters?'_

'_He won't,' Lucius said simply. Surprised by the finality in his father's voice, Draco looked at Severus for an explanation. His godfather smiled._

'_Well, our all favorite time-traveling Gryffindor midget won't tell me a lot about the future,' he said, winking at Draco, 'but he once revealed this much: The Dark Lord won't ever know about his adoption into the Malfoy family and by the time the Death Eaters find out, he said it won't matter anymore if they do. He assured me that no harm will come to either of you by making him a Malfoy.'_

'_So how could I argue with that?' Lucius asked with a slight smirk. 'However, we will keep the adoption a secret from the magical world for as long as necessary. Your mother and I will file for Harry's adoption strictly on a muggle level until time is right and he can be made our child under Wizarding law as well.'_

_Draco jumped up. 'Can I tell Harry?' he asked, bouncing with excitement. 'Now?'_

_Lucius and Severus smiled. _

'_Not just yet,' his father said. 'Don't forget that even though Future Harry may know all about our plans to adopt him, in this time he does not. I doubt he would believe a word you said, Draco.'_

'_My guess is he'd send you right up to Madam Pomfrey,' Severus added. 'Best regards and everything.'_

_Lucius chuckled. Draco, however, looked very disappointed._

'_But when can I tell him?' he asked._

'_Your mother was thinking of throwing a birthday bash for him and then someone will only have to tell Harry that his sixteenth-birthday present will be … well … us.' Here, Lucius looked at the Potions teacher as if hoping that he might do this deed for him, but Severus looked thoroughly unimpressed._

'_You'll do great, old friend,' he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm while he patted Lucius on the back. 'I'm sure Harry will embrace the idea of being your son right from the start.'_

* * *

**July 30, 1996 – Three hours until Harry's sixteenth birthday**

It was the same as every year, if you thought about it.

Here he was, sitting on his bed, staring at the clock and waiting for it to strike twelve at last. Waiting to be another year older. Only Harry couldn't remember ever being so tense before. One moment he sat stock still despite the fact that every one of his nerve endings was tingling and screaming at him to move and the next he was jumping up and pacing the length of his room.

Glad that Ron wasn't here to witness his state of agony, Harry stepped in front of the large mirror for what was possibly the one-hundred-and-tenth time and drove both of his hands through his raven-black hair. He knew that Ron was downstairs in the kitchen where everyone was preparing a surprise party for him that he wasn't supposed to know anything about.

Harry smiled as he remembered how everyone – Sirius first – had gone out of their way to keep the surprise party a secret and yet had failed so miserably at it, but his upcoming birthday party (albeit his first) wasn't the reason for his nervousness.

It was the birthday itself.

But even though Harry didn't quite know what he expected to happen in three hours from now (Severus Snape saying _'You're my soulmate, Harry! I've waited for this day all my life!'_ sounded good enough, though), he expected … something.

A vision. An understanding. A sudden revelation that would immediately wipe away all his questions, doubts and fears and leave him with nothing but the knowledge of his soulmate.

_Severus._

Nervously, Harry checked his appearance once more – needlessly straightening the green dress shirt Draco had given him last Christmas. If this revelation came and Severus _was_ his mate, he wanted to look his best after all. Harry sighed anxiously. But although he didn't regret his decision to spend this birthday with Sirius and the rest of the Order at Grimmauld Place after all, he couldn't help but wishing to be at Snape Manor right now.

_Home._

Draco had been a little sulky over Harry's decision to come here, of course, but Severus had – much to Harry's surprise – encouraged him, saying that he most definitely shared Harry's fear of Black losing the last shred of sanity he possessed. Therefore, he agreed that Harry had better check up on the ex-convict soon and told Harry to spend his birthday at number twelve, Grimmauld Place if it made Sirius happy and come to Snape Manor a day or two later to stay for the remainder of the summer holidays. He was sure, Snape had said, that Draco and his notorious birthday-surprise could wait until then.

In a way, it was a good thing Harry had fallen ill right on his second day at the Order's headquarters. He had been afraid that he would scarcely get to see Severus while staying here, but now that he was sick, it naturally was the Potions master who was called in to check on Harry on a daily basis and provide him with a remedy. Nobody could really say what was wrong with him – least of all Harry himself – and although there were no running nose or sore throat to be taken care of, no broken bones, no toothache and no migraine, Severus always seemed to have the correct antidote ready for him.

Then again, Harry strongly suspected the antidote to be Snape himself. After all, he was sure that the illness he suffered from was the one called 'I miss my Potions teacher so much that it makes me want to vomit.'

_I wonder when he will be back._

He was almost relieved, when a knock at the door interrupted his hypnosis of the old clock on the wall in front of him. 'Come in,' he said, quickly driving his hands through his hair once more, hoping to see Severus Snape and knowing already that he wouldn't.

'_I'm very sorry I can't be with you on your birthday tomorrow, Harry, but …'  
'Duty's calling, I know. It's okay, Professor, don't worry. Just … you come back safe, okay?'  
'Always.'_

As expected it wasn't Severus who stepped into the room a second later, but Hermione Granger.

'Come!' she smiled simply, holding out her hand for him to take. 'And you don't have to bother to pretend that you don't know anything about a surprise party just yet,' she added with a smile, when Harry tried his best to look questioningly. 'Save that face until we're downstairs.'

Harry grinned and took her hand.

When the two of them stepped into the kitchen, however, the look of surprise on his face was real. He had expected some members of the Order in here, the Weasley siblings, a cake and a few party hats and blow outs, but the kitchen was empty.

Next to him, Hermione chuckled softly. Pulling Harry after her, she rounded the long kitchen table and stepped in front of the fire place. She threw a handful of Floo powder into the fire and together they stepped into the green flames, where Hermione wrapped an arm around Harry's waist and then called out:

'The Burrow!'

* * *

**July 30, 1996 – One and a half hours until Harry's sixteenth birthday**

'You know that ultra-special-super-cool present that I was going to give you?' Draco asked, sitting down on the couch next to Harry and handing him one of the two paper cups in his hands.

'Uh-huh?' Harry nodded, smiling.

'Yeah, forget about that one!' Draco told him. 'It won't get any more special than this. I'm the only Slytherin among a horde of Gryffindors. I'm in Ron Weasley's house. Sitting on Ron Weasley's couch. Drinking Ron Weasley's …,' he took a sip from the paper cup and grimaced, '… strongly spiked pumpkin punch.'

He sighed deeply. 'Oh, the things I do for you, Potter!'

'I know,' Harry agreed with a smile. 'I'm still trying to figure out whether or not you're the real Draco Malfoy, to be honest.'

Without batting an eye, Draco hit Harry over the head. 'Real enough, midget?' he smirked.

Harry snickered. 'Thank you, I kind of needed this.'

'See, I told you, you were kinky, Potter,' Draco concluded, slightly leaning over to bump shoulders with the other boy. 'Are you okay?' he asked, mustering Harry with knitted eyebrows. 'Severus says you're a little under the weather these days.'

Harry blushed. 'It's nothing,' he said quickly. 'Probably just a delayed reaction to the stress of our OWL exams.'

'Show off!' Draco said … and that was that. For a while they sat in silence until Draco pointed over to the buffet, where Ron and Hermione were standing among some of Harry's other Gryffindor friends. Hermione was looking over at them occasionally and smiling, while Ron was downing one cup of punch after the next.'

'An intoxicated Weasel,' Draco muttered. 'Just what I need.' Then, he looked at Harry. 'You can go over there if you like,' he said. 'You don't have to babysit me.'

Harry frowned. 'I'm not babysitting you. But why don't we go over there together? You could talk to Hermione, you know?'

'Oh, really?' Draco drawled, ignoring Harry's broad grin. 'And why, pray tell, would I want to talk to a mudblood?'

'Why, to thank her! Because you always miss me so terribly while I'm away,' Harry tweeted, fluttering his eyelashes at the Slytherin. 'And correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm sure that it was _her_ owl that sent you the invitation to this party, wasn't it? And not Ron's.'

'Not Ron's? You don't think so?' Draco asked, feigning surprise. 'And here I was, thinking that it was the whole Weasley family's biggest dream to finally have me in their midst.'

Harry nodded. 'To crucio you, yes,' he said, sounding rather unconcerned.

'Can't say it hasn't crossed my mind,' somebody suddenly said and as they both looked up, Draco and Harry saw Ron standing in front of their little couch, framed by Neville Longbottom and Hermione, who now nudged the redhead.

'Well, erm,' Ron said promptly, clearing his throat. 'Can we sit down? I've brought punch.'

Harry opened his mouth to reply, but Draco was faster.

'Sure,' he said, cleaning the table between them of all used paper plates and candy wrappers with a flick of his illegal wand. 'Make yourself at home!'

He smirked at Ron who grinned back somewhat crookedly, before sitting down on the coffee table in front of Harry. Hermione sat down next to him, facing Draco. Neville sat down on the armrest closest to Harry.

'Do you like your party, Harry?' Neville asked. 'Were you surprised?'

'Very surprised,' Harry answered, winking at Hermione. 'And yes, this is the best birthday party I've ever had.'

'It's the _only_ birthday party you've ever had, Oliver Twist!' Draco reminded him unsympathetically. Hermione giggled and Harry smiled.

'Oh yeah. Good point!'

* * *

**July 30, 1996 – 30 minutes until Harry's sixteenth birthday**

'Hey Harry!'

Harry, in the middle of re-filling his papercup with pumpkin punch, turned around from the buffet to see Hermione standing behind him. She had both of her hands in the back-pockets of her jeans, trying to appear as casual as possible, but her cheeks were glowing. Harry smiled.

'All right, Hermione?' he asked. 'Having a good time? Where's Draco? Don't you reckon it's a bit early to hide him in a box underneath your bed? People will notice he's missing.'

Hermione blushed briefly, but quickly recollected herself. 'Well, then I'll just blame it all on Ron!' she retorted cheerfully. 'I will tell everyone that he's buried Draco in the backyard.'

Harry grinned.

'They're over there. Still talking!' Hermione informed him then, pointing at the two boys sitting in a corner of the room.

'Who thought we'd live to see the day?' Harry murmured. Then, he filled a second cup and handed it over to his friend.

'Yes,' Hermione agreed, sipping from the punch. 'It is quite surreal seeing them like that, isn't it?'

Harry nodded. 'Thank you, 'mione!' he then said.

'What for?'

'I know that it was your idea to invite Draco and I can only imagine what you were up against.'

Hermione shrugged. 'No, no! It wasn't that bad. Really!' she lied. Harry smiled.

'Hermione, come on! I know my godfather and his aversion to everything Malfoy. The mere fact that my party is taking place at The Burrow instead of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, which is much more spacious and everything, tells me enough. They didn't want him there, right?' he asked, watchingDraco thoughtfully. 'They were afraid that he might reveal the headquarters to his Death Eater father.'

'Is that not what he is?' Hermione asked quietly. 'A Death Eater?'

Harry shrugged. 'Honestly, I don't know. There was a time I thought Draco Malfoy was my worst enemy and now he's my best friend. There was a time when I thought I hated my Potions master … and look at me now.'

Hermione laughed.

'I'm probably not the best judge of character,' Harry admitted with a smile. 'But I do know that Draco's parents have treated me nothing but decently while I was staying with them. Lucius had many chances to kill me, I'm sure, and yet he never did. Whether or not that's because he didn't want to piss of his best friend and only son, I don't know. But what matters is that he didn't, right?'

Hermione nodded.

'Anyway, Harry … are you alright?' she asked after a few moments had passed in silence.

'Of course I am,' Harry said, not meeting her eyes. 'This is my birthday party!'

'You wish he was here, right?'

'Who?' Harry asked, hoping that Hermione would not notice how the papercup had just begun to shake in his hands.

'Your soulmate,' Hermione said gently. Then, she quietly added 'Severus', causing Harry to almost choke on his punch.

'Honestly Harry, did you really think I had forgotten about this?' Hermione scolded. 'Did you think I wouldn't remember how important this particular birthday is for you?'

_As a matter of fact I did._

Harry remained silent for a while. Then, he sighed deeply.

'I don't think Snape's my soulmate,' he said miserably. His hands were shaking so severely now that he had to put his cup back on the table. Hermione put hers down, too.

'Why?' she asked worriedly, laying a hand on Harry's arm. 'What's the matter?'

'Well, he isn't here for one thing!' Harry called out, frustrated. 'And then … I don't know!' He looked at his watch. 'I keep waiting for something to happen. Some revelation or whatever that Severus really is my mate, but … it's not happening.'

Whatever reply Harry had expected from Hermione at this point, he certainly hadn't expected this: Hermione started laughing. And rather merrily, too.

'Glad you think this is funny,' Harry grumbled and Hermione chuckled even harder.

'Boys!' she exclaimed, looking at Harry with wide eyes and shaking her head at the same time. 'Are all of you emotionally challenged?'

Harry looked at her indignantly. 'What's that supposed to mean?'

'Harry!' Hermione yelled, her voice at least two octaves higher than usual. 'Have you read a dozen-and-one books on soulmates or have you not? Have you researched this subject thoroughly or have you not?'

'I have!' Harry said irritably. 'So?'

'So?' Hermione echoed with disbelief. 'So? So, you know for a fact that you're bonded to somebody out there, right? Not only because you feel it, but because your own godfather has confirmed it. Right?

'Right,' Harry said weakly. 'But!'

'But what?' Hermione asked. 'Who are you in love with, Harry?'

'Snape!' Harry said through gritted teeth, after making sure that nobody was listening. Hermione, however, looked as though she couldn't have cared less. 'Who do you _want_ to be your mate?' she asked.

'Snape!' Harry said quickly.

'And who is the man you want to spend the rest of your life with?'

'Snape!'

'In fact,' Hermione continued importantly, 'who's the _only_ man you can picture yourself being with? Ever?'

'Snape!'

'Who is the one person all your thoughts revolve around tonight?'

Harry took a moment to answer this time, but they both knew it wasn't because he was unsure of his reply. He swallowed hard. Then, he quietly said: 'Severus Snape!'

Hermione nodded.

'And in all your research, have you _ever_ read of a single soulmate that was in love with someone other than their Intended?' she asked gently.

Harry shook his head.

Hermione smiled. 'And now tell me, what sort of a revelation are you waiting for, exactly?'

When Harry didn't say anything, she smiled and kissed him on the cheek.

'Exactly,' she said softly. 'There will be no revelation, Harry. Because you already know.'

* * *

**July 30, 1996 – 20 minutes until Harry's sixteenth birthday**

Blindly, Harry stumbled towards the nearest door he could find.

'_There will be no revelation, Harry. Because you already know.'_

His original plan had been to just be alone for a minute or two - let it all sink -but that plan was lost the moment he decided to choose the Weasley's kitchen as his retreat. Molly Weasley was standing (how else could it be?) in front of the oven. Sirius Black was sitting at the kitchen table behind her, a bottle of muggle beer in his hand.

'More Cornish Pasties coming right up, dear!' Mrs Weasley called out as Harry entered the kitchen even before he had said anything.

'HEEEY!' Sirius cried as he saw his godson entering. 'Look who we've got here. The boy who's about to turn sixteen!'

Harry smiled weakly. Then, he dropped himself on the chair next to Sirius.

So!' Sirius asked, patting him on the back. 'Sweet sixteen, eh? Excited yet?'

'Uh-huh' Harry said. Then, suddenly, he straightened on his chair. So did his facial expression.

'How could I not be excited?' he asked very cheerfully. 'I'll be sixteen in a few minutes. I've found my soulmate … it can't get better than this, can it?'

It took less than three seconds for Sirius's facial color to go down south, although Harry suspected he didn't look much healthier. His heart was beating madly in his chest. The lie had slipped easily across his lips, although it turned out to be quite an effort to keep the beaming smile plastered on his face, despite the fact that the rest of his body now began to shiver from all the anxiety.

_Oh Sirius, tell me it's true. You know it! Say his name!  
_  
Sirius swallowed the shock down along with a large gulp of beer and only after what seemed like minutes to Harry, he was able to croak: 'He told you?'

'Yes, of course!' Harry lied as nonchalantly as his beating heart would allow. 'But he didn't have to tell me anything, really, I figured it out by myself. I mean, it was obvious, wasn't it?'

Again, he beamed at Sirius, who didn't notice that his godson's broad smile was nothing but a front. 'Hmpfh!' he growled instead. 'And I told him to be careful! I don't know how Dumbledore could ever allow him to take you away from Privet Drive to live with that git. He knows what's at stake.'

Harry's breathing hitched. Cold sweat broke out between his shoulder blades and his heart was beating so violently that his chest seemed to hurt.

_Hermione's right! Say it, Sirius. Say his name!  
_  
'W-why are you all against us? You, my dad, Dumbledore? Why don't you want us to be together?'

He was going to faint, Harry knew it. Any second now.

'Because unlike him we chose to believe your prophecies, Harry!' Sirius said 'him' in the exact tone of voice as Harry usually said 'Umbridge'. 'Unlike him we chose to care.'

'OH, PROPHECIES!' Harry exclaimed and although he had no clue what prophecies Sirius was talking about, his indignation over the subject matter came from the heart. 'Who gives a fuck about prophecies? And what do you mean, he doesn't care? He _does_! He … he loves me!' he added for good measure, but it was hard to sound convincing when all you wanted was to curl up in a ball and cry.

_Severus, where are you? Why are you not helping me with this? Why do I have to find out everything on my own?_

By now, Sirius looked almost as ill as Harry felt.

'Love!' he said desperately. 'Harry, why him? You could do so much better than-'

Harry held his breath, but Sirius ended his sentence not with the name Harry was so anxiously waiting for, but with an expression of utmost disgust that was meant to tell Harry everything he needed to know.

And he did.

He knew.

He had always known.

But how could he expect anyone else to speak out his soulmate's name when even _he_ couldn't bring himself to do the same?

'Better than?' Harry repeated sternly, bracing himself. 'You need to learn to say his name, Sirius, okay? 'Git' and 'him' won't do anymore once Severus and I are married.'

_Salazar, be proud of me and my evil cunning.  
_  
'MARRIED?' Sirius croaked. 'Harry, you're too young to marry that old git!'

'Harry, dear,' Mrs Weasley, who had stood as still as a statue until now, chimed in at last. 'Your godfather is right. Severus Snape is too old for you. A relationship would be …' She grimaced and it seemed to Harry as if she was holding back a shudder with great difficulty. 'Wrong. Just wrong! Illegal even. You're only a child, darling!'

_It's Severus. It's really Severus. Severus!_

'You know about my mate, too?' Harry was stunned. 'Well, if you're all so well informed about my soulmate, then you will also know that I'm not a child anymore, I'm a teenager. I'll be turning sixteen in only a few minutes. Sixteen, Sirius! The age when a soulmate bond will be strengthened and preserved for a lifetime!' Harry recited.

'_It's Severus! It's really Severus,'_ his frantic mind repeated over and over again. But before his legs were able to give way underneath Harry, the door to the kitchen burst open and the twins came tumbling in.

'Mother,' announced Fred formally, 'Sirius. We need to borrow Birthday boy for a little while.'

Sirius and Molly nodded their assent - one of the looking amused, the other surprised - and George turned to look at an equally surprised Harry.

'Young Harry!' George nodded civilly. 'If you please.'

And before Harry could say a single word, he pointed his wand at Harry's face and said: 'Caecurio!'

Instantly, Harry's world turned black. Pitch black. His hands flew up to his eyes, which did not seem to be functioning anymore.

'What the …' he yelped. But before he could take off his glasses and rub his magically disabled eyes, he felt Fred and George take a hold on either of his arms and gently turn him around.

'The living-room will be off-limits for any grown-up for the next thirty minutes!' he heard Fred say. 'Harry will need his privacy when he …. uhm … unwraps our present.'

'Alrighty!' said Sirius cheerfully.

'This had better be nothing that explodes in his face!' Molly warned loudly.

'Ugh!' Fred muttered under his breath and loud enough for only Harry and his brother to hear. 'That is a mental image I don't need.'

'Have fun, Harry!' Sirius called after them.

'Fun!' Harry grunted, still struggling quite madly against the twins' grips and trying to reach his face. 'This is no fun! What have you done to my eyes? LET ME GO!'

'Hush, young Harry!' George said kindly. 'It's only a small blinding spell and it's temporary!'

'Well, it better be!'

'And it's only a very light one, too,' Fred added.

'Light?' Harry snapped. 'I see no light, thank you very much. I see NOTHING and if you don't take that spell off me RIGHT NOW …!'

Harry's heart was playing a steady staccato drum by now. But his threat trailed off into nothingness as neither Fred nor George seemed to be particularly worried about what the Golden Boy could and would do to them. Mercilessly, they steered Harry out of the door. Harry heard his party guests cheer loudly when they entered the living room. Some of them whistled.

_This is bad. This is really bad._

Seconds later he was sat down on a chair. But before he could relax, his ankles and wrists snapped against the wooden legs and arm-rests. Frantically, Harry began to struggle against the magical ties, all the while cursing with words his friends had never heard him use before.

'Have you lost your minds?' he asked, trying to yell at his friends. But fear was now choking his throat into something too tight for a scream.

Was this still his birthday party? Was he really still at The Burrow? Had the twins really been Fred and George? Or was this a trap? Would he be facing a dozen of leering Death Eaters once the blinding spell was removed from his eyes?_  
_  
_'SEVERUS, HELP ME!' _his mind screamed. 'Where's Draco?' he asked desperately, not quite recognizing his own voice. 'Draco, get me off!'

'Are you sure this is a good idea?' he now heard Neville's concerned voice from somewhere to his right. 'This doesn't really look like fun.'

'Like hell it doesn't!' Harry agreed through gritted teeth. 'Get me off this chair! DRACO!'

'HUSH!' George reprimanded gently. 'Or you'll scare our mother!' Then he added: 'Draco is helping Hermione to sneak Ron upstairs, unnoticed to our dear parents, and bring our ebrious baby brother to bed.'

'Letting him have some of the spiked punch was probably not a good idea, in retrospect,' Fred said. 'But don't worry, I'm sure both Draco and Hermione will be back just in time for the show.'

'The show? What show?' Harry asked faintly. Something was telling him that whatever it was the twins were up to this time, he would not be amused. Something was screaming at him to GET UP AND GET OUT OF HERE, but before he was able to clear his panicked mind enough to summon enough magical power to free himself on his own, he heard an unfamiliar, male voice brightly say:

'Show? Did somebody in here say show? Ah, now that's my cue, isn't it?'

A second later, music filled the room. There were giggles all around Harry and he felt Fred and George move away from his side. A second later, his eyesight returned to him. Harry blinked manically a few times while his eyes got used to the light again.

Then, he saw him.

Had he not been as freaked out as he was, he probably would have laughed. The man who was standing right in front of his chair was in his mid-twenties and ridiculously tanned underneath his peroxide blonde hair. A small, golden earring was dangling from his right ear. His muscles were literally bulging underneath the too-small uniform he was wearing (which happened to be none other than that of their national Quidditch team) and threatened to tear it apart in more places than one.

'What are you? A Stripper or something?' Harry asked incredulously and as if this had been yet another cue, the Quidditch player began to dance.

'My name is Nova!' he smiled down at Harry. 'And I'll be the best birthday present you've ever had.'

'No! I don't want a bloody Stripper!'' Harry protested, torn between laughter and fright. He pulled against the ties around his wrists but, of course, they wouldn't come loose.

'Now be a good boy!' Nova said sternly, removing his bracers while swaying his hips back and forth. 'Or do I have to spank you with my broomstick later on?' he asked, wriggling his eyebrows at Harry.

More whistles, laughter and catcalls all around him. Harry's own face, however, curled with disgust. 'UGH!' he said with much emphasis. That, however, didn't seem to disturb the Stripper in the least. Still grinding his hips in a way Harry guessed was meant to be sexy, he slowly began to raise his shirt and pull it over his head.

'You've got to be kidding me!' Harry groaned as indignantly as he could, but when he realized that his protests remained utterly fruitless, he stopped struggling and decided to just wait for Draco and Hermione to come back and release him from this misery.

_Just sit this through. How bad can it get?_

And so one item of clothing after the next was sent flying across the room by a very animated Stripper. With every new body part revealed, the audience – who had formed a circle around Harry's chair and the dancing Stripper – grew more and more enthusiastic while Harry grew more and more anxious. The fact that he was still tied to the chair unnerved him to no end. Where would this end?

At last all that was left to cover the Stripper's nudity was a tiny black string. As much as he tried not to look, Harry couldn't help but see the golden letters that were printed on the young man's front.

_Golden Snitch._

And before Harry's brain could form the words _'Oh no!'_ Nova sank down on Harry's lap and purred: 'So they tell me you are a Seeker, honey!'

'Yes,' Harry grit out. 'But don't get too excited now, my hands are still tied.'

His friends giggled and Nova smiled appreciatively, showing two rows of perfectly white teeth.

'Ah, you see, I would have loved to dance for you without you being tied to this chair, but your friends said you're a bit shy…'

He reached up and pushed Harry's fringe aside, so that he could get a clear view on the jagged scar on Harry's forehead, and began to trace the lightning bolt with one of his fingers. Harry tensed and leaned back as far as possible, but with his arms and legs still glued to the chair, he didn't really have much room to move.

'I'm not shy!' he gasped, trying to suppress the shudder of revulsion at the Stripper's intimate touch and at the same time wondering just why on earth he _shouldn't_ give in to the urge to throw up all over the other man.

'… and you probably would have run away from me,' Nova continued, still smiling.

'Smart _friends_ I have!' Harry barked, spitting out the word 'friends' with as much venom as he could muster. He turned around to glare at the twins and thought that George looked uncertain for a moment, when suddenly the door opened and two people yelled:

'HAPPY SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY, HA-'

But the rest of his name died in Draco and Hermione's throats as they stared at him with open mouths. Each of them was holding a small tray with a bottle of sparkling wine and a couple of pre-filled glasses. Somewhere in the house, an old clock struck twelve with a deep, melancholy clang. That noise seemed to snap both of Harry's friends out of their shock.

'OH NO YOU DIDN'T!' Hermione squealed at the twins who suddenly looked rather guilty.

'WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?' Draco barked.

'Draco!' Harry yelled, his voice made unsteady from the rush of relief now flooding through him. Draco would magic him loose at last! Instinctively, he began to struggle in his seat, when suddenly he realized that wriggling with an almost-naked man atop of oneself was not the best idea.

_I can feel him. I can feel his … thing._

A small sound of embarrassment escaped his throat and he froze dead on his chair, staring at the Stripper and blushing crimson. Draco rushed towards him and needlessly tried to pry off Harry's arms from the chair.

'YOU CHAINED HIM' he yelled, looking around at Harry's friends who were all gaping at the scene in front of them with interest. 'HAVE YOU GONE MAD? WHAT KIND OF FRIENDS ARE YOU PEOPLE?'

'Now, what's with all the yelling, darling?' the Stripper asked, staring at Draco as if he thought _he_ had gone mad. 'We're just having some fun here!'

'AND YOU!' Draco roared, pointing his wand at the scarcely dressed Entertainer with so much hatred and rage that Harry had never seen on him before - not even when they had still been the worst of enemies. 'YOU GET OFF HIM, YOU FAG!'

He looked at Harry and, a little more gently, he added: 'No offence.'

'None taken,' Harry smiled weakly as Draco began to assault his invisible ties with a string of magic incantations, trying to find the correct counter-spell.

'There is no reason to deny or be uncomfortable with your homosexuality, Harry!' cooed the Stripper, who apparently wasn't to be intimidated by a Malfoy's wrath and still straddling Harry.

'Only because I'm not turned on by your _lap dance_ doesn't mean I'm uncomfortable with being gay!' Harry snarled. 'GET OFF ME ALREADY!'

'Fine!' the Stripper said, clearly disappointed. 'If my services are not appreciated here, I'll leave.'

'THANK YOU!' Harry and Draco barked in unison.

'Well, then …' the Stripper sighed, slowly getting up from Harry's lap. 'Happy sixteenth Birthday, Harry Potter!' And with that he planted a kiss on Harry's lips and slid from the boy's knees at last.

'AND DON'T FORGET YOUR FILTHY UNIFORM!' Draco yelled after him, treating the indignant Stripper to one last Class A-Murderous-Malfoy-Glare. After that, it was the twins who got equally lucky.

'If this is your doing, you'd better untie Harry right this second or I swear I'll forget all about my promise to not hurt any of his friends!' Draco spat. And at long last, the twins obliged. George pointed his wand at each of Harry's wrists, murmuring the counter-spell. Upon hearing it, Draco promptly performed the same spell on Harry's ankles.

'Great idea!' he muttered under his breath. 'Tying Harry up with invisible chains, barely a year after the Dark Lord did exactly the same to him. Sensitive, really sensitive!'

'What- What's wrong with Harry?' somebody asked suddenly. Draco's head jerked up to look at the Gryffindor. Beads of sweat were forming on Harry's face that had turned chalk white. He was breathing heavily; his face screwed up and his body tensed in regular intervals as if he was convulsing in silent pain.

'HARRY!' Draco yelled, shaking his friend as gently as his own shock would allow. 'Harry, are you alright? The ties are gone, Harry, you can move again! You can get up now!'

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up at Hermione. 'I don't think it was those ties, Draco!' she said, her eyes brimming with tears. 'It must have been the kiss!'

Her words were followed by surprised murmur from all around them, but Hermione ignored it. Instead, she began to scream like a banshee: 'You idiots! I _told_ you that a Stripper isn't a good idea. I have _begged_ you not to hire one! Now look what you did! You messed it all up! You fools!'

She stopped only when she noticed that Harry had begun to get up from his chair, clinging to Draco's arm for support. He had stopped cringing and wincing, but still looked awfully white. He didn't say a word and looked at no one around him.

'Oh Harry, are you all right?' Hermione cried, reaching out to touch her friend, but Draco held up a stopping hand.

'Let me take care of him, Granger,' he said quietly. 'But if you want to kill these dysfunctional morons in the meantime, you have my every blessing.'

* * *

**July 31st, 1996 - Harry's sixteenth birthday**

Gently, he steered Harry out of the living room and into the hallway. He sat Harry down on one of the stairs that led to the Weasley's many bedrooms and sat down to the Gryffindor's left. His heart was beating madly in his chest.

_Is their bond still intact? Is Harry okay? Did Severus feel the kiss? Does he know? Can he get here soon?_

But he knew that it was _his_ job for now to limit the damage that this one kiss, however meaningless, had brought on. So lost in his thoughts, it took Draco a moment to realize that, next to him, Harry had begun to cry. For a second the urge to Avada Kedavra everyone responsible threatened to overwhelm Draco, but then he got a hold of himself and put his arm around Harry's shoulders.

'You sixteen year old crybaby!' he scolded softly. 'So you had a half-naked Mr. Muscle with the words "Golden Snitch" printed on his crotch sitting on your lap. Big deal! That's nothing to cry about.'

Promptly, Harry's crying amplified.

'_Oh,'_ Draco thought_, 'that didn't go too well.'_

'Hey!' he said again, somewhat helplessly, and quickly pulled Harry closer, cradling the Gryffindor's head with his left arm. Gently, he began to smooth down Harry's black hair and made soft shooing noises, occasionally pressing a kiss on Harry's temple. He had no real concept of what or what not a "fledgling soulmate", having just unwillingly received his very first kiss from a random stranger, needed to restore his inner balance, but instincts told Draco to provide Harry with as much "tender loving care" as possible. Instinctively, he understood that Harry would not react to his touch with panic. This time, he wasn't hitting on the Gryffindor after all. This time, they were family. Brothers.

And, really, it seemed to work. Soon, Harry's sobs quieted down enough for Draco to dare joking: 'Really, Harry! You're a disgrace for all gay men in this world! The whole crotch on crotch with Mr. Muscle thing was supposed to make you happy, not bawl.'

Harry hiccupped into his collar.

'Could you not say 'crotch on crotch'?' he asked. Draco laughed.

'I'll try, but it'll be hard.' He paused. 'Erm, no pun intended.'

Harry laughed, too, but a few second later his laughter turned into crying once more.

'I could feel his _thing_ on me!' he hiccupped indignantly. 'It was _disgusting_!'

Here, his shoulders tensed and he shuddered violently. And although he wasn't sure whether or not he was just imagining it, Draco thought he could feel Harry's body temperature drop as well. Once more, he tightened his embrace and began to gently sway back and forth.

'Hush now, it's okay,' he said soothingly. 'Mr. Muscle is gone now and so is his … golden snitch.'

Promptly, a noise of disgust escaped both their throats and they both laughed.

'I don't want to be a Seeker anymore!' Harry complained half-chuckling, but he quickly became serious again.

'He kissed me, Draco!' he said quietly, leaning away from Draco, so that the Slytherin could only release him from his embrace. 'He kissed me!' he repeated reproachingly.

'I know,' Draco said quietly. 'But it didn't mean anything!'

'This was my first kiss!' Harry replied, jumping up from the stairs. 'My first kiss, Draco! Do you understand? Where was he? Why didn't he prevent this from happening? Isn't it his duty to kiss me first of all people? WHERE WAS HE?'

'Who?' Draco said, knowing the answer already.

'My _mate_!' Harry replied with an angry smirk. 'My _soul_mate! Severus - where the fuck was he? Why didn't he protect me? How could he let this happen? How could he let me get my first kiss from some STRIPPER?'

A smile spread across Draco's face.

'You know?' he beamed. 'You finally know that it's Severus? You finally believe it?'

'Hmm!' Harry confirmed gruffly. 'Well, everybody knows, don't they? I'm so sick of it!'

'Sick of what?'

'That everyone thinks they know what's best for me! That people never let me decide something on my own, they always do it for me! I'M SO SICK OF IT!'

'Isn't that a bit melodramatical, Potter?' Draco asked. 'Well, of course it is,' he answered his own question a second later. 'You're Harry Potter!'

But Harry didn't smile.

'Voldemort decides he can just take away my family. Dumbledore decides I'm to stay with the Dursleys. The Dursleys decide they can just lock me up in a cupboard. Voldemort decides that Cedric is in the way, so he 'kills the spare' when all he really wants is to kill _me_. Sirius decides that my soulmate is not good enough for me and so he keeps his identity from me. And Severus … Severus decides he can just STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME ON THE NIGHT OF MY SIXTEENTH BIRTHDAY!'

Harry banged his fist against the wooden banister that began to vibrate loudly.

'SHHH!' Draco said sternly, bringing a raised index finger to his lips. 'Be quiet, will you, or you'll wake up the Weasel and I've had quite enough of him for tonight, thank you!'

'No!' Harry yelled. 'I don't want to be quiet, Draco, I'm done being quiet! That's all I ever do, keeping my mouth shut! WHERE THE HELL IS SEVERUS? Why did he let this happen? Why is he not here with me? And why did he never talk to me about any of this? Does he even give a damn?'

'NOW HOLD IT, RIGHT THERE!' Draco said angrily. 'Don't you dare giving me this terribly lame and outdated cliché of whining _'Why oh why doesn't he love me?'_ now, Harry Potter, because I won't buy it. You know as well as I do that my godfather _worships_ the ground you stand on. I've learned enough about soulmates to know that by now you can actually _feel_ how much he loves you. You finally dare to acknowledge it and that's why you miss him, today even more than ever. Every cell in your body aches to be with him, am I right? That's why you've been sick ever since leaving Hogwarts and that's why you feel better as soon as Severus comes to bring you a potion. Correct?'

Sternly, he raised his eyebrows at Harry who looked down on the floor.

'Yes,' he said quietly.

This ready concurrence mollified Draco immediately. He got up, walked over to Harry and put a hand on the other boy's shoulder.

'Yes, Severus should be here today and it's a mighty shame that he isn't,' he said softly. 'But instead our Potions master is once again risking his life for all of us, attending a Death Eater meeting and probably plotting the five best ways to kill the Golden Boy. How do you think he feels right now, Potter? Having to sit next to the Dark Lord, pretending that the one thing he wants most in this world is to see his own mate dead when all he really wants is to be with you, tonight of all nights? Do you really think he didn't try everything in his power to be here?'

'No, I don't,' Harry admitted, subdued. 'I know why he can't be here tonight and I … understand that that's more important. I'm not really angry at Severus, it's just …' He faltered and leaned back against the wall heavily.

'What?' Draco asked. 'It's just what, Harry?'

'This was the one thing I thought I had control over,' Harry said unhappily. Draco didn't understand.

'This?' he repeated questioningly.

'This!' Harry nodded, waving his hand. 'Kissing, making out, sex ...,' he elaborated. 'Don't you think I know how strange it is that I'm sixteen and don't have even the slightest experience with any of these things? But that's because I _wanted_ it that way. With all the decisions other people always make for me, this was the one thing I had entirely for myself.'

His eyes filled with more tears. 'Yes, I know I sound like a drama queen, but I was saving myself, Draco! For someone who would finally love me. Someone who wouldn't see me as a freak, a nuisance, a burden. Someone who would hold me; be there for me. Someone who would care about me. For Severus!'

Harry's tears began to fall again and suddenly, just as Draco began to wonder just what on earth he was supposed to do with the bundle of nerves that was his godfather's mate, Severus's voice echoed through his mind:

'_If you had kissed him, I could have done nothing to make it right again, do you understand?' - 'I'm no pedophile.' - 'He's not off age yet, you're teenagers!'_

Back then Severus had spoken about Draco's unsuccessful attempt of kissing Harry – against Harry's will. But now somebody else had kissed Harry against his will and Severus wasn't around to make it right. But would he? Harry might be an "of age soulmate" now, but legally he was still a child. And knowing his godfather's sense of honour, Draco was almost certain that this little fact was enough to keep Severus away from Harry for yet another year.

_But what if Harry can't wait that long?_

What if it was up to him now to undo the damage of that first kiss Harry had unwillingly received from that Stripper? If anyone other than Severus had the ability to do so, it was him, Draco knew, because as much as he liked to tease Harry, he wasn't in love with him. For as long as he could remember, he had wanted to be Harry Potter's brother, and he had long grown to love the Gryffindor as such. And he knew that Harry felt the same way about him. So if Harry was to kiss him willingly this time in order to figuratively wipe Nova's kiss away, would that finally calm him down? And would _that_ calm Severus, who was probably currently seething over his mate's obvious distress and maybe even in danger to do something rash and stupid – something which could cost him his life while under the Dark Lord's watchful eyes?

'I didn't even know that bloke!' Harry went on now. 'I didn't even like him! Heck, I didn't even think he was _good-looking_! What in Merlin's name gave him the right to kiss me?' he asked, wringing his hands in desperation. 'Is that how you do it, Draco? Is that how you kiss people? Do you just go and smack your lips against somebody else's mouth? Do you?'

'No!' Draco said firmly, having made up his mind. 'You don't, so stop making such a fuss already!'

Harry mouth fell open. 'What?' he asked disbelievingly. Hurt.

'You did not receive your first kiss today, Harry!' Draco said matter-of-factly. 'Like you said, it was a smack and nothing more.'

'Draco,' Harry cried, 'I know you're trying to make me feel better, but he _did_! He kissed me!'

'No, he didn't,' Draco repeated stubbornly and took a step closer to Harry until their shoes were touching.

'Did he do anything that indicated that he was planning on kissing you?' he asked. 'Like this?'

He placed his left hand on the wall next to Harry's head and put his right index finger underneath the smaller boy's chin and raised it, so that Harry was forced to look into his eyes.

'No,' Harry cheeped.

'Did he give you a chance to pull away?' Draco asked, very slowly leaning closer.

'No,' Harry repeated, not taking the chance that Draco was offering him. Draco smiled.

'Did he give you a chance to say 'No'?' he asked, leaning closer still.

Wordlessly, Harry shook his head.

'And did he kiss you like this?' Draco questioned. And then, closing his eyes and ignoring the thundering in his chest, he softly placed his lips on Harry's. Harry tensed a little and for one excruciating moment Draco feared he was only making matters worse, but then Harry relaxed into their kiss. Answering it.

Carefully, Draco took Harry's bottom lip between his own, tasting the slight flavour of pumpkin punch. And although Draco quickly found himself enjoying the kiss (thinking that it should definitely be more weird to snog a boy), he was very careful not to cross the line. Keeping his tongue to himself, he gently nibbled on Harry's lower lip before pressing two chaste closing kisses on the other boy's mouth.

Then, he pulled back to look at Harry, who opened his own eyes with some delay and blinked a couple of times. Draco couldn't help but smirk.

'So tell me, Potter!' he asked smugly. 'Who gave you your first kiss again?'

Harry looked slightly dazed, still, but slowly he began to smile.

'I believe that was you.'

_**To be continued …**_

* * *

_**Author's Note:  
**I know you all waited ages for this chapter and I apologize a thousand times, hoping that its length can make up for it. If you have any question etc. about this chapter, feel free to ask them in my forum (see my personal profile for the link). Thank you all so much for your more than kind previous reviews, enquiries and motivation. I apologize again for the horribly long wait, but am fairly sure that this will never happen again ;-). But if it ever does, please remember to check the forum, too, to find out what's going on and when on earth I'll ever update again. Thank you._

_PS: I know there's a substantial lack of Severus in this chapter, but- what can I say - that was the whole point of this chapter and Harry's "predicament". Rest assured, there will be a lot more Snarry interaction in the next one._

* * *


	34. Picking Up The Pieces

**_EDIT:_  
_Some of you are confused about who gave Harry his first kiss.  
If you're one of them, I suggest you go back and read chapter 33 to help you remember! ;-)_**

* * *

**Author's Note:**  
Thank you to every single one of you who waited this long for this chapter – some patiently, some not so patiently. But I love you all for waiting. Many of you already know why it took me so long and I want to give all my heartfelt thanks to everyone who sent words of comfort, sympathy and consolation. Even though I wasn't always able to reply to every one of you, I want you to know that all of you helped me more than I could ever explain. 

The death of my best friend knocked me off my feet and, for a while, robbed me of all my motivation to write, let alone do anything else. Although Andrea had never actually read ITWFY herself (being as unfamiliar with the Harry Potter universe as she was), she had always been a great fan and supporter of my writing in general. And she seemed to understand what this story means to me, because she inquired about it pretty much on a daily basis and was always very eager to hear how the story was progressing ('So … have they kissed yet?' – always chuckling when she heard that, no, Snape and Harry _still_ hadn't even kissed yet, even though I had reached chapter 30-whatever) and what kind of feedback I received from you guys. Maybe that's why I couldn't touch this story for so long. Adding to this was the fact that there is a chapter looming in the near future of ITWFY, that will hit a bit too close to home now, I guess you could say, and although I'm still terribly scared to write it, I am now sure I'm able to face it.

Again, I want to thank everyone who sent their sympathy or simply kicked my ass about updating already. All of you are the reason this chapter exists today. I hope you'll like it, too. I also want to send a very special thank you to my dear friend **"Wivern"**, who is not only an incredible friend of mine but an incredible writer, too. Without her support, without her love and motivation, without her e-mails and her talent, I may not have made it.

**Thank you, babygirl.**

That said, please check out her brilliant Snarry fic **"In one breath"** as well as the breathtaking Draco Malfoy-centered story **"Nolens Volens"**. I can't seem to link directly here, so please just look for Wivern on my profile under 'favorite authors'. Her stories are worth every minute of your time, I assure you. But first, read chapter 34, if you please ;-). Those of you who were taken aback by Draco's actions in the last chapter, will hopefully be appeased after reading this one.

Thanks. To everyone.

* * *

Chapter 34  
**"Picking up the pieces"**

**July 25, 1996 – Six days until Harry's sixteenth birthday**

He felt that Harry was asleep even before he entered the boy's room, but as etiquette demanded, Severus Snape knocked twice before he let himself in. He crossed the room with three strides until he stood in front of the small, woodworm-eaten bed underneath the window on the other side. Worried, he looked down on the teenager that lay in it. His young mate was sleeping a restless sleep; his eyes were moving rapidly under his closed eyelids while his fingers were clenching and unclenching around a blanket he had previously struggled out of.

Just like all the other days before, Molly Weasley had called him here today because as the resident Potions master, Severus Snape seemed the most competent member of the Phoenix's Order to heal whatever illness had befallen Harry Potter at the start of the summer holidays - but not because anyone here actually believed in the fact that the Death Eater Spy and the Golden Boy were soulmates, Severus knew. And so it wasn't without bitterness that he set down the small blue vial on the little table next to Harry's bed. The "medicine" inside was not much more than a placebo anyway – a few vitamins dissolved in peanut oil – and would do nothing to better Harry's condition. In fact, no potion and no spell could ever do so. Physically, Harry was perfectly healthy after all. Yet.

But the fact that Severus himself was all the remedy Harry needed, of course, was something nobody at Number twelve, Grimmauld Place would ever admit out loud, although even Harry himself had figured out by now that his "illness" wasn't a case of doxy allergy or low blood pressure. However, Severus was beginning to wonder if Harry Potter would ever voice his own theory about the source of his so-called illness out loud himself. No, the boy certainly didn't have much faith in the possibility of being loved by somebody. Anybody.

_But who could blame him?_

The teacher sat down on the side of Harry's bed. The boy didn't wake, however, but continued his path down a restive dream. It worried but also thrilled Severus that his mere presence wasn't enough anymore to calm the boy. Simply being in the same room was no longer enough for Harry. Their soulmate bond was fully developed now and so their bodies were literally aching to be with each other. However, Harry's self-denial and the fact that he was constantly acting against the natural impulse to be with Severus (mainly due to his aforementioned lack of faith, Severus guessed, and not because he was actually being sensible) were taking an even bigger toll on Harry's well-being than the actual miles that separated the two of them since they had left Hogwarts for the summer holidays. And while Severus was trained – yes, hardened – by many a year of self-denial and suppression that went hand in hand with the life of a Dark Lord Spy who had once sworn to sever the ties to his own soulmate, the much younger Harry would not be able to suppress his needs much longer. His body was already protesting more and more fiercely each day against their separation and Severus would have to act soon if Harry didn't.

He reached out now and brushed the damp hair from Harry's eyes before he let his hand come to rest on the teenager's cheek. After a while Harry's constant movements stilled and his breathing became even as he relaxed visibly under the other man's touch. Slowly Severus began to move his thumb back and forth, gently stroking Harry's feverish cheek. Soon afterwards, Harry's breathing changed once more and although the boy's eyes remained closed, Severus knew he had woken up. The older man smiled, knowing fully well what his young mate's intention was. He was stalling time!

Apparently Harry knew that Severus would have to remove his hand soon enough, lest his innocent caress might be deemed inappropriate, and by pretending he was still asleep, he was buying them a few more seconds in which neither of them had to feel awkward or guilty. But as adorable as Harry's reaction was, it frustrated Severus that the boy had to resort to such measures.

_Salazar be damned!  
_  
If he felt like touching his mate, he should bloody well be allowed to do so! It wasn't like he was going to jump the minor, for crying out loud!

'_Soon,'_ Severus calmed himself. _'Soon I'll talk to him about everything. He'll be sixteen in only a couple of days.'  
_  
Of course, Severus knew better than to hope that Harry's sixteenth birthday would lead to sudden acceptance of their relationship by the outside world, but at least then he and Harry would finally be able to admit to _each other _that they were mates and that they would indeed have a proper relationship one day. They would not have to hide their devotion from each other anymore, which would make things a lot easier – especially for Harry, Severus hoped.

'Harry, wake up,' he said quietly now, but without interrupting the caress of Harry's cheek.

_He can use a bit of a hint, I suppose. Some encouragement._

Expecting the teenager to stage a slow awakening now, which would offer Severus enough time to remove his hand, the Potions master almost jumped in surprise when Harry – although his eyes stayed shut - promptly replied with:

'I'm awake.'

'Oh,' Severus replied rather stupidly and the hint of a smile began to show on Harry's face, although it disappeared when Severus dropped his hand. Harry opened his eyes and looked up at his teacher. His clear gaze didn't manage to hide a silent reproach.

'Afternoon,' he then groaned as he pulled himself in an upright position.

'Good afternoon, Potter,' Severus replied. 'I brought you some medicine.'

Harry's eyes followed the index finger that pointed at the small bottle that stood on his night table. '_Medicine_, huh?' he rasped, looking back at Severus and eyeing him closely. Severus frowned. Something was decidedly different about the boy today! Gryffindors weren't ever known for subtlety, mind, but today Harry was even more direct than usual – even for Potter standards.

_Did I say he needs encouragement?_

The prompt confession that he had not been asleep anymore, the hint at knowing that Severus's supposed healing potions weren't healing potions at all … it was as if Harry was playing with him, daring Severus to _admit it already!_

Oh, and he wanted to! Severus wished nothing more than to finally be able to talk to Harry about the bond they shared, but … somehow it felt wrong to do it before Harry was at least sixteen. You did not admit your love to a minor, you just didn't! Not when you were old enough to be the minor's father and especially not if you were said minor's teacher, too.

And anyway, he really preferred to talk about these things back at home. On safer grounds, where no black dog could come storming into the room at any given moment, tear him away from Harry and then bury his teeth where it hurt the most.

_Not today, Harry. Not now. Sorry._

'So how are we today, Potter?' Severus asked at last, struggling to keep his voice neutral while looking down on his young mate.

'Well, I don't know about _you_, but _I_ am always better when you're around, Professor!' Harry tweeted sweetly, but despite the humor that his tone of voice suggested, he still looked at him very closely.

_Is he flirting with me?!  
_  
When Severus didn't reply (being too surprised to do so), Harry reached out for the blue flask with a small sigh. Without taking his eyes off Severus, he uncorked it and downed the oily substance inside. Then, he handed back the bottle and very pointedly said: 'Thank you for my _medicine_, Professor.'

Severus nodded. 'You're very welcome,' he replied just as pointedly.

After that, Harry tipped his head to the side and mused: 'Seeing that they call you here almost every other day to pepper me up, wouldn't it be more practical if I moved in with you already?'

Severus sensed nervousness now beginning to radiate off the boy and before he could stop himself, he finally accepted the proverbial Quaffle that Harry was so desperately trying to pass on.

'If you had moved in with me right from the start as we had planned originally, you would not need any peppering up now, my dear,' he replied, calmly returning Harry's gaze. Both, the confession and the term of endearment prompted Harry's eyes to widen in surprise and he blushed quite brilliantly as his bravery deserted him at last. But with Gryffindors bravery and sense didn't necessarily go hand in hand and so Harry soon opened his mouth to reply – something that would undoubtedly put the Quaffle back in Severus's side of the field – when the door opened and Mrs. Weasley stepped inside.

'Oh, Harry dear, I'm sorry if we woke you,' she said, closing the door behind her.

_'You didn't wake him, I did,'_ Severus thought grudgingly, angry that his already limited time with his mate was once again cut short by some busybody.

'You didn't wake me,' Harry promptly albeit unknowingly voiced Severus's own thoughts while Molly began to shake up his pillow. He pointed at the Potions master. '_He_ did!'

He grinned brightly at Severus and not for the first time the teacher wondered how destiny could ever assign him with a GRYFFINDOR for a mate. A Slytherin and a Gryffindor … that _was_ a match made in hell, wasn't it?

Suppressing the sudden primal urge to grab the cheeky young man in front of him and 'snog him silly' (as he knew his students would put it) only just, but unable to fight a grin that soon mirrored Harry's own, he winked at his student.

'You were never sleeping to begin with, Potter! And you're certainly not ill either. You're scrimshanking, that's what you are.'

'_Scrimshanking_?!' Harry echoed, his voice twinkling with laughter.

'As always,' Severus nodded superiorly.

Harry nodded, too, mocking earnest. 'Yes, Professor, and thankfully you're always so compassionate that you fall for it every time.'

'Careful, Potter!' Severus shot back. 'Or my next healing potion will help you even less!'

Smirking, he reached out for one of Harry's knees and gave it a not so gentle squeeze. Harry's leg promptly jerked in reflex and the boy laughed. His laughter turned into a serene smile when Severus didn't remove his hand right away, but instead continued to rest it on Harry's leg and seconds later, a strong wave of Harry's affection reached Severus. Again, it was all the man could do to refrain himself from acting upon his own. Much too soon, however, Molly interrupted the spell by reaching for Harry's blanket, forcefully shaking it out and then spreading it over Harry's legs again, thereby forcing Severus to remove his hand.

'Well, Potter,' Severus drawled with a sideways glance at Molly, 'now that I have successfully interrupted your much-needed beauty sleep, I might as well leave again.'

'My beauty is natural, nothing can destroy it!' Harry joked in a tone of voice that clearly suggested he was spending too much time around Draco Malfoy. His words were followed by a rather spectacular gurn and Severus had to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from laughing at Harry's grimace. He would not lose his carefully crafted countenance in front a Weasley, thank you very much! However, the impulse to laugh quickly died all by itself, when he saw that under his funny, little snoot, Harry was blanching rather visibly over Severus's imminent departure.

'WAIT!' he exclaimed when Severus began to get up and Severus noted that, once more, Harry's fingers were curled tightly around his blanket.

'I …,' the boy looked over at Mrs. Weasley and faltered.

'I wanted to know, how are Priya and Draco? How's Draco doing?' he continued after a moment, his voice suddenly small and desperate as he tried to stall some time for them yet again … and Severus made a choice.

'Why don't you go back into the kitchen, Molly?' he asked quietly as he turned to look at the woman behind him. 'I shall keep Mr. Potter company for a little longer and I assure you that your assistance won't be necessary.'

His voice kept the same calm level as he continued to speak, but his eyes did not conceal the threat that his words contained: _Interrupt us one more time, witch, and I will make you and your family suffer. You and I know that I have means and motivation enough to do so._

Then, he sat back down next to Harry.

'Draco?' he asked, his voice light again. 'Well, _Draco_ asked me to tell you to get your golden behind out of bed and stop being a drama queen already.'

Harry's chuckle rang like music in Severus's ears … and so did the sound of the shutting door as a huffing Molly Weasley closed it behind her.

* * *

**July 29, 1996 – Two days until Harry's sixteenth birthday**

They pocketed their wands and looked around the room with the proud air of two men who had accomplished something great.

And they had.

Lucius and Draco Malfoy had spent all morning to make the chamber next to Draco's bedroom – originally meant to be a guestroom but over the years turned into a storage room for all the things Draco had grown out of (him mother called the junk 'toys', but Draco preferred to refer to it as 'outdated magical gadgets', thank you very much) – habitable again. Habitable for the soon-to-be addition to their family.

With the help of a few servants and well-placed spells, they had emptied the room of all its content (except for a few carefully chosen "gadgets" Draco thought Harry might still enjoy), cleaned it and then exchanged the predominant and admittedly dull grey of the room with friendlier colors. Unsure of what other color scheme Harry might like, Narcissa and Draco had picked out a warm scarlet tone for the walls and a golden-beige one for the carpet, which Lucius had then heroically (_'Gryffindor colors. In my house! I'm losing my touch.'_) magicked on.

The color of the curtains that framed the two large, sun-lit windows at the long end of the room matched that of the floor perfectly and various green plants and multiple small lamps placed in every corner of the room added their part to make this room look cozy and inviting. The furniture – a small four-poster and a bedstand on either side, a couple of mostly empty shelves, a wardrobe, a desk and finally an armchair that was placed in front of the little fireplace – were collected from all over the house but in such good shape that they wouldn't look like obvious hand-me-downs, something that Draco had double-checked with great care since Harry had had enough of those to last for a lifetime.

'So …,' said Lucius Malfoy, putting a hand on his son's shoulder. 'Will this room be adequate to accommodate the Savior?'

It was a rhetorical question, of course, and Draco merely snorted in reply ('_The Savior grew up in a cupboard for Merlin's sake!_') while he appraised the prominent magical photograph that hung above the fireplace. It had been taken during a very early Quidditch match between Slytherin and Gryffindor and showed Harry and Draco flying side by side, so close that their brooms and shoulders were bumping into each other, and both reaching out to catch the Golden Snitch that was dancing just inches away from their fingertips. Back then, Harry had reached the Snitch first, of course, and some tiny first year had managed to ban this shameful moment on film. It had never been published, however, because Draco had gotten a hold of both the camera-obsessed Gryffindor and his negatives before he could develop same. With the help of some dark magic and even more patience Draco had bewitched the photograph, so that it was _him_ who caught the Snitch every time now, and then scaled up the end-result, framed it and put it above the fireplace for everyone – Harry – to see.

'Oh, he'll like it, I'm sure,' Draco chuckled now, turning towards his father and grinning at him. Just then his mother came rushing inside, a pile of bedclothes in her arms. Having heard her son's last words, she looked around nervously and asked: 'Are you sure, darling? Will he feel at home? Have we not forgotten anything? How about some pictures? And a few more flowers maybe …?''

'No. _Mum!_' Draco protested. 'No more flowers! And pictures … er …,' he stopped and quickly glanced at the Quidditch photo again, 'I think he should choose those for himself.'

Narcissa Malfoy noticed his perky grin and looked up at the photograph herself. After a surprised double-take (Draco's photo-self had just caught the snitch), she pointed her index finger at the moving photo and laughed: '_That_ did not happen!'

'Yes, it did,' Draco lied with much indignation ('But of course!' Lucius muttered sarcastically) and to overplay the rising blush of his cheeks, he took the sheets and pillowcases from his mothers arms and began to magically pull them over the blanket and pillows on the bed.

'Narcissa, Lucius … have you finally organised a new house-elf?' somebody suddenly asked and Draco turned around to see Severus Snape standing next to his parents, surveying his godson with mock interest.

'Har!' Draco said.

Now Snape's gaze fell upon the moving picture. 'That,' he said, pointing at the photograph with a knowing smirk, 'did not happen, Mr. Malfoy.'

Lucius and Narcissa chuckled.

Ignoring the jesting adults, Draco continued his work on Harry's bedclothes and pointedly asked: 'Is there something we can do for you, Professor?'

His godfather grinned. 'I'm impressed,' he said then, looking around the room appreciatively. 'I'm sure Harry's eyes are going to fall out once he hears that this will be his very own room.'

'I expect nothing less of him,' Lucius demanded importantly and Narcissa nudged him with a smile.

'How is he, Severus?' she asked. 'Is he well?'

Severus's expression changed. 'No. No, not really,' he replied gravely and Draco interrupted his task to look at the dark-haired man, who sat down on the armchair and dully stared at the fireplace.

'A fireplace?' Severus asked distractedly. 'It's not connected, is it?'

'It kind of is, actually' Lucius smirked. Upon seeing his friend's confused frown, the blonde man rolled his eyes. 'It is connected to the fireplace in _your_ bedroom, of course!'

'Oh,' said Severus. Draco snickered.

'But of course we will disconnect it every day after sunset, at least until Harry is seventeen,' Narcissa added and Draco could not tell whether or not his mum was joking. Judging by the look on his godfather's face, neither could he.

'Yes, mother,' Severus said obediently and Narcissa nodded almost proudly as if she wanted to say _'That I am!', _but then her expression changed into one of worry. Sitting down next to Severus, she put a hand on his knee and quietly said:

'You don't look too well yourself, Sev.'

'I am not well,' the teacher admitted. 'And if I look like this already, you can imagine the state Harry's in …'

'Oh Severus!' Narcissa exclaimed, her hand flying up to cover her mouth. 'But then why won't they let you take him with you already?'

Severus snorted bitterly. 'Why? You know why! Because they don't want to believe that their precious little orphan could possibly be bonded to an old git like me, that's why. Sirius Black can barely wrap his head around the fact that his godson is gay, let alone in love with … _me_. Molly Weasley is offended by the mere idea of anyone but her taking care of Harry. And Dumbledore …?' His mouth curled bitterly. 'Well, he doesn't exactly go out of his way to help, does he?'

'Kidnap Harry,' Draco suggested. 'Just get him and come back here.'

Severus nodded absentmindedly while pulling a slightly crumpled envelope from the inside pocket of his robes and holding it out for his godson to take.

'I almost forgot,' he said. 'This is for you.'

'For me?' Draco's eyes widened. 'Who gave you this? Harry?' he asked, reaching for the envelope.

Severus shook his head. 'When I came here, I spotted an owl trying to find a breach within the magical barriers surrounding the estate. Quite persistent thing, really. As the owner so the owl, I suppose,' he finished gruffly.

Frowning, Draco looked down on the handwriting on the envelope. The persistent owl could not have been Hedwig for this certainly wasn't Harry's hand, which the Tabulas Loquoram had taught him to recognize anywhere by now. Quickly, he opened the envelope and pulled out the card inside. The three adults looked at him with mild curiosity as he studied it, but the teenager said nothing, nor did his face show any kind of reaction to whatever he was reading.

'Well,' he curtly said after a good minute had passed. 'If you will excuse me now, I need to answer this letter.'

And without waiting for an answer, he swept from the room and so the two remaining Malfoys turned to Severus for an explanation. The Potions master shrugged.

'I suppose this finally was an invitation to Harry's birthday party.'

'An invitation?' asked Narcissa. 'Surely you're not telling us that the Order is going to reveal the location of its Headquarters to Draco?'

'I doubt it,' Severus replied. 'However, I consider this a miracle of equal proportions for this, if I'm not completely mistaken, was Hermione Granger's owl.'

* * *

**July 30, 1996 – One day until Harry's sixteenth birthday**

'And are you absolutely certain that you have no idea when Voldemort plans to break into the Ministry of Magic, Snape?' rumbled Alastor Moody.

Severus stifled a sigh, but he made no secret of his indignation as he looked at the other man. He knew that Moody didn't trust him half as much as he should, but that Severus didn't mind. After all this was a feeling he was more than used to. Merlin, it was a feeling he purposely _induced_ in the people around him as a way to keep his cover. A way to protect his own life. Not being trusted he could tolerate. Being talked to like some first year _dunderhead_, however, he could not - least of all from a man who liked to call himself Mad-Eye Moody.

'Correct, Alastor' he replied icily, 'I _really_ do not know when the Dark Lord plans to break into the Ministry of Magic - yet. However, I can assure that I will do my job and keep trying my best to find out. Now, do you think it will be possible for you to do your job … or will I have to do that, too?'

He cocked his head to the side and added: 'Mind you, not that this would be anything new.'

With a threatening growl, Alastor Moody got up from his chair. Severus swiftly followed suit – minus the growl, of course.

'_Just give me one more reason,'_ was what both their expressions said.

'There now,' Albus Dumbledore said calmingly, getting up himself with both of his hands raised. 'Let's continue to handle this like adults, my dears, shall we?'

Severus opened his mouth to give an appropriately scathing reply, but before he could do so, the Headmaster said to him: 'Severus, I want you back with Voldemort and his followers tonight and to not leave his side as he has already requested of you. This mission is of great importance and we can not risk him getting suspicious of your increasing leaves, now that school is over.'

'But I told him the same about you!' Severus protested. 'I told him you require my assistance over the next couple of days and he gave his permission!'

'In fact, I want you to stay with the Death Eaters not only until you have gathered the necessary information, but I also want you to be among them when they take off to the Ministry!' Albus simply ignored the objection by slightly raising his voice and continuing as though Severus had not spoken. 'You will pass the information on to us in the usual manner, so it won't be necessary for you to leave Voldemort's side again. Go tonight, Severus!'

'Tonight? But tomorrow-' Severus stopped, but then decided he didn't give a Kneazle's arse about what anybody in this room would think. 'It's Harry's birthday tomorrow! You may not like it, Albus, but you know I'll have to be here when Harry's turns sixteen.'

Next to him, Sirius Black got up from his chair as well. 'No, you don't, Snape!' he spoke through gritted teeth. 'I don't know why you're still hanging on to this ridiculous notion that you and Harry are _soulmates_, but James never believed it and neither do I. Not to mention anyone else in this room. Stay away from my godson already, Snivellus!'

Severus spun around. 'Mature as always, aren't we, Black?' he hissed. 'But you won't be able to keep me away from Harry any longer, not you! You've done enough damage to his self-esteem as it is, telling him he has a soulmate who hates him.'

'But you did! You hated him, you always did – everyone knows it!' Sirius cried out angrily. 'We all know you've made the boy's life a living hell at school, but as soon as he started turning into a good-looking, smart, young man, you began to chase after him. It's sick and twisted, it is, and I will not watch you corrupt my godson any longer!'

Severus would have almost laughed at the absurdity of the other man's accusation, but when he saw almost every head in the room nod in agreement, he had to admit it stung a little. In fact it stung quite a bit to be regarded as 'that nasty, old git who was trying to get into his student's pants'. Was this what it would be like from now on? Was this how all people would look at him whenever they saw him at Harry's side? Was this forever what their love would be treated as? Something 'sick and twisted'?

Yes, it stung indeed … a fact that begged for retaliation.

Slowly, he sat back down and leaned back in his chair. Folding both his arms in front of his chest, he sneered at the other dark-haired man with two raised eyebrows. 'You know, I might even be able to respect you or your misgivings about Harry's and my relationship, would I believe your 'worried godfather' act for just one minute,' he then spoke quietly, carefully lacing his words with just the right amount of disdain.

It worked like a charm.

'WHAT'S THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?' Sirius erupted. 'What do you mean, it's an _act_?'

'Why, nothing!' replied Severus, feigning surprise at the sudden outburst. But then his smile flattened and his expression grew cold again. 'Only that I don't remember you being too concerned about your godson's wellbeing when you denied the position as James and Lily's Secretkeeper,' he explained coldly. 'Where was the ever-so-worried godfather the night Wormtail betrayed his godson's parents, I'm asking you.'

'I DON'T HAVE TO LISTEN TO THIS!' Sirius yelled, his face turning red with anger. 'How dare you, you bastard? How could I have known what would happen? How could I have known what Peter would turn out to be?'

'Turn out to be?' repeated Severus, his own voice growing louder, too. 'Turn out to be a spineless, two-tongued suck-up, you mean?'

'YES!'

'Come on, Black, that's what he always was!' Again, Severus rose from his chair. 'And all of you knew it! You _Marauders_ never liked him, you just tolerated him because he helped inflating your big egos! Your two best friends ask you to be their Secretkeeper of your own godson's hiding place and you give the honor up to Peter _Wormtail_ Petti-'

'I was trying to protect them! Everyone would have known that the Secretkeeper was me. It would have been too obvious!' Sirius defended himself, but Severus merely snorted.

'Is this how you survived Azkaban? By telling this to yourself over and over again until your conscience finally believed it?' he sneered. He was dimly aware of Albus Dumbledore and several Order members raising their hands placatingly and trying to interrupt him, but he wouldn't stop now. He had kept these words inside for so, so long and it was about time Sirius Black heard them. He deserved to hear them.

_It _stings_, doesn't it?!_

'Stop fooling yourself, Sirius. You were too busy partying and cajoling anything female unfortunate enough to cross your path to be bound to such an important charm, weren't you? You wanted to still be free as a bird and not be weighted down by such a heavy oath! The Fidelius was a burden to you, wasn't it? You wanted to-'

Severus stopped mid-sentence, when great calmness suddenly flooded his heart, replacing the wrath it had been filled with until only a second ago. His fingers automatically released their tight grip on the edge of the table and, releasing his breath too, the Potions master sat back down and half turned to face the door. A smile was tugging at his lips.

It knocked.

'Come in, come in!' Albus Dumbledore invited, his voice strangely strangled and not half as cheery as he had obviously intended for it to be. The door opened and Harry Potter stepped into the room. Unconsciously, his eyes immediately sought out Severus and when they found their target, they brightened noticeably. In fact, Severus could have sworn that the entire room had just lit up a notch.

'Ginny sent me to tell you that dinner's ready,' he announced with a little grin. Happily, the Order of the Phoenix jumped at the opportunity to break up this tense meeting and quickly began to scramble out of the room and towards the kitchen. Albus Dumbledore sent Severus a last meaningful look before leaving.

'Remember what I've told you, Severus,' he said gravely as he ushered Sirius Black, whose protests were quickly muffled by the screeching portrait of his own mother, out of the room. Severus didn't bother to reply. Instead, he began to pack all his things – parchments, blueprints, notes, etc. – into his bag. Meanwhile, Harry stood behind the row of chairs to his left, impatiently waiting to finally be left alone with Severus and at the same time trying make it seem like he wasn't lingering.

Not that he was very successful.

'Will you be staying for dinner, Severus?' somebody asked now. Funny, Severus mused, how such a harmless and polite question could sound so insincere, even when coming from someone as usually good-natured as Molly Weasley. He automatically opened his mouth to decline the offer that wasn't one in the same way he always did, but one look at Harry made him change his mind.

'_Please do! Please stay!'_ the boy was begging silently – only for Severus to hear. But it was those wide and hopeful emerald eyes, which only echoed their owner's silent plea, that made it impossible for the teacher to say anything other than 'Yes, thank you, Molly.'

Molly nodded and left the room, not looking all too pleased. Not that it mattered; Harry's smile more than made up for it as he beamed openly at Severus now that they were alone. Neither of them spoke, however, and for a while Harry simply watched how Severus continued to pack his belongings. Severus was still trying to find the right words to tell Harry why he wouldn't be here tomorrow, when the Gryffindor interrupted the heavy silence.

'Good meeting?' he asked as nonchalantly as he could and Severus hid a smile at this rather sad attempt to make small talk. Then, closing the catch of his bag with a snap, he looked at his young mate and grimly replied:

'No.'

'Oh,' said Harry sympathetically. For a moment he seemed at a loss as to what to say next, but suddenly he threw himself over the backrest of a chair and wailed: 'So … so … so you're saying he's _still_ after me?'

Severus cocked an eyebrow at the bundle of nerves next to him. 'Yes, I'm beginning to see where Draco's request to open a Drama club especially for you comes from. I'm thinking my godson has a point,' he said with a smile. He chuckled when Harry continued to sob mock tears into the chair and it was only then, that Severus realised that this had been Harry's only intention all along. Whether Harry fully understood it already, Severus did not know, but he was certain that Harry had begun to sense his emotions just like he was able to sense Harry's. It was absolutely possible that Harry had felt his rising distress during the meeting, which could explain why he had been the one to call the Order to dinner in the first place.

_That, or maybe he just missed me._

Severus decided he liked both thoughts equally and reached out to tousle Harry's black hair. 'There now,' he grinned, 'I promise we're all doing our best to save your golden behind.'

Harry snickered and looked back up at Severus. Upon seeing the other man's smile, he smiled too. 'That's better!' he even said and Severus's smile broadened a little, signalling silent understanding, before his expression turned grave once more.

'So it seems like I won't be able to congratulate you tomorrow, Potter.'

Promptly, Harry's face fell.

'You won't?' was all he managed to say.

Getting up from his chair, Severus shook his head. 'I will have to leave for some,' – he paused for a moment to wonder just how much he was allowed to say – '_Order business _right after dinner.'

He made sure to make no secret of his chagrin. The boy had to understand that he wasn't pleased about this either, not at all. It also couldn't hurt that he knew just who was responsible for this development.

'And you won't be back by tomorrow?' Harry asked. 'Not even, like, for a moment?'

His confusion was almost tangible. It was clear what the boy was thinking now – Severus could literally HEAR the doubts that were racing through Harry's thoughts all of a sudden:

'_But … we are soulmates, aren't we?'  
'Am I wrong? Please don't let me be wrong!'  
'But I love only him. Only him! How could he not be my mate?"  
'But what if I'm wrong? Is it all just wishful thinking?'  
'But if we _are_ mates, then he must know how important my sixteenth birthday is, right?'  
'Wait! Does he know I'm turning sixteen tomorrow? I don't remember! Maybe he doesn't! Maybe he's got the years mixed up!'_

'It's my sixteenth birthday tomorrow!' Harry suddenly blurted out with all the subtlety that was his. Severus would have smiled again, had his heart not been so heavy with guilt. Instead, he put both his hands on Harry's shoulders, forcing the young man's fears to come to a halt and to look at him. Once he was sure he had Harry's undivided attention, Severus spoke, choosing his words carefully:

'I know that very well, Harry. And I promise that we will talk soon. You have my word.'

'O-okay,' Harry stuttered quietly. Severus released him and they both began to walk towards the door. Just before they left the room into the much too bright and much too noisy hallway, however, Severus turned to face Harry once more:

'I'm _very_ sorry I can't be with you on your birthday tomorrow, Harry!' he said somberly. 'But …'

Harry interrupted him. 'Duty's calling, I know. It's okay, Professor, don't worry,' he said sadly, but then he offered Severus a brave smile. And then, in another fit of bravery, he momentarily reached out for the older man's hand and gave it a quick but strong squeeze. 'Just … you come back safe, okay?'

Severus nodded.

'Always,' he said.

* * *

**July 30, 1996 – Two hours until Harry's sixteenth birthday**

Draco looked at the large clock upon the fireplace in his room before taking one last look at his own reflection in the mirror. Needlessly straightening his already flawless clothes, he then heaved a big sigh, took the envelope that sat on his otherwise empty desk into both of his hands and pulled out the card inside.

'The things I do for you, Potter, the things I do!' he muttered. Then he waited patiently for the big hand of the clock to reach twelve – the moment the card in his hands would momentarily turn into a portkey that would transport him to Ron Weasley's house. Ron Weasley's house where SHE would be waiting for him.

Fifteen.

Fourteen.

Thirteen.

Okay, so he wasn't really all that patient. In fact, he wasn't patient at all.

Eleven.

Ten.

Nine.

Nor was _not_ nervous. Or _not_ excited. Or _not_ scared.

Seven.

Six.

Five.

But he wouldn't let anyone notice. Oh no, he wouldn't! He was a Malfoy, yes, he was!

Three.

Two.

The sudden pull, although expected, still came as a shock. Draco gasped and had no choice but to tumble helplessly around inside the magical whirlwind of chaos that lay behind the portkey – or _inside_ it, Draco never knew - until it finally spit him out on the other end.

It did so in a not so gentle manner.

Draco grunted as he unceremoniously landed on his arse. Rubbing same, he got up from the ground.

'Great! It's so dark I can't see a thing! Damn you, Granger, if this is a joke ...'

'It's not!' a voice to his right quickly said and Draco flinched in surprise, suddenly thankful for the darkness around him, which had probably – hopefully - hidden his most unelegant fall from thin air.

'Lumos!' the voice added and a second later Draco could recognize Hermione Granger sitting on a patch of what seemed to be a small, decaying stone wall, behind the now shining tip of her wand. Her teeth, too, shone brightly as she smiled at him. And here he was, hoping there was still enough darkness left to cover his glowing ears.

'What are you sitting in the dark for, anyway?' he grunted, not quite looking at her, but patting some dirt off his grey pants instead.'

'It's not so dark, actually,' Hermione said cheerfully as she jumped off the wall. 'Once your eyes get used to it, you'll see that the moonlight is bright enough to light the way.'

'Right,' Draco said, refraining from adding 'You're really weird, Granger!' only just. He was a GUEST now. This wasn't Hogwarts. He had to be POLITE. Merlin knew just who was hiding in the darkness around them, just waiting to hurl a decent Cruciatus Curse at him. Or worse.

'Let's go, shall we?' he asked.

'Uh-huh,' Hermione nodded, still very cheerfully, and began to light the way with her wand. Draco followed her cautiously. Nervous.

'I'm so glad you came!' Hermione said after a while. Quickly, she added: 'I mean, Harry – he'll be so pleased!'

'Well, he'd better,' Draco replied. 'Or else!'

* * *

**July 30, 1996 – Six minutes until Harry's sixteenth birthday**

He felt the presence of a _very_ unauthorized being in _very_ unseemly proximity to his mate even before he felt Harry's distress over same. But when Harry's reaction hit home, it hit home hard and for a minute Severus fought to breathe through the ache in his chest; the result of Harry's humiliation and desperation as well as his own jealousy. Once he had his breath back, it was all he could do to not simply extinguish every life – man or mouse - within a ten mile radius with one single Killing Curse.

Had he ever been this angry before?

Next to Severus, Lucius Malfoy sensed that something was wrong. Without turning away from the fire in their midst (and seemingly without turning his attention from the ongoing conversation of the group), he opened his mouth just wide enough to ask: 'What?'

But since Severus couldn't give a prolonged explanation, he had to reply with a one-word-answer himself - a way he and Lucius had learned to communicate with very early in their friendship.

'Potter,' he hissed back. He knew they weren't overheard by anyone, but even if they were, this seemingly spiteful reference to the Golden Boy would hardly seem suspicious. 'Potter' was, after all, the subject – the grudge - present on everybody's mind tonight; the very reason for their little assembly. Lucius shifted almost unnoticeably now, clearly a sign of concern. He wasn't even the guardian of the boy yet, but already Lucius Malfoy acted the part. Despite his inner turmoil, the left corner of Severus's mouth briefly twitched into a smile.

'Hurt?' Lucius whispered back, barely loud enough for even Severus to hear, and the teacher's lips twitched again. Maybe Lucius would rather eat a Garden Troll than to confess, but he _did_ worry about his future son already.

'No,' Severus had to admit. After all he knew Harry was not being harmed physically – for now. Somebody was touching Harry, however. Touching Harry without permission and in places they had no business touching him to begin with. But it was strange! Try as he might, Severus was unable to discern the emotions that his young mate transmitted. Nothing Harry was feeling at the moment seemed to make sense. Severus could tell that his young mate was still among people who cared about him greatly – which excluded the possibility of Harry being raped as surely none of them would look on so calmly. The Burrow wasn't being ambushed either, because he could tell that Harry's distress didn't include fear for anyone around him and simply because he would know if Harry was in mortal danger.

He wouldn't still be sitting here if it was.

But what was it that Harry was feeling? Was it horror? Was it amusement? Was it fear? Was it disgust? Was it confusion? Was it annoyance?

Was it really possible for one person to feel all these things at once?!

Just then, however, a crystal clear thought separated itself from the throbbing surge of emotions that steadily pulsated through their natural connection.

**'SEVERUS, PLEASE COME!'  
**

Overwhelmed by the clarity and insistence of this desperate plea for help, but even more so by his inability to actually follow same at this moment, Severus cringed as his insides constricted with guilt and even more rage.

No, he had certainly never been this angry before.

He quickly covered up his sudden movement with a change of his sitting position. Then, he tried hard to focus his attention on the words spoken out loud somewhere in front of him, when he realized it was Voldemort who had risen to speak now. But it was no use. He could not hear a word the Dark Lord was saying.

In fact, at this very moment, Severus could not hear or see – or feel - a single thing.

Except Harry.

Harry, who had just received his very first kiss.

Unwillingly.

Helplessly.

Powerlessly.

Randomly.

Every fibre of Severus screamed for murder. But he knew he had to act wisely now or he would never again be of any help to his Beloved. Slowly, as to not attract any more suspicion than necessary, Severus got up, before sinking down on one of his knees once more. Bowing his head deeply, he interrupted the Dark Lord's speech as demurely as his cackling rage would allow:

'I beg your mercy, my Lord,' he said. He knew he was shaking with anger, but hoped the Dark Lord would think it being from fear. 'I am very sorry, but the old man has just called me to him. It seems it can not wait and so I beg your permission to leave this meeting, my Lord, so that I won't attract his suspicion.'

He didn't dare to raise his head in order to look at the Dark Lord, which probably turned out to be a wise decision, because otherwise the curse might have hit him right between the eyes.

'Crucio,' Voldmort said quietly – yes, almost friendly – and in the next second, Severus found himself keeling over from sheer strength of the pain that had begun to tear at his insides. Luckily, he had enough sense to not bite into his own tongue as the Cruciatus Curse ate its way through every single nerve, vein and vessel of his body. He wasn't beyond screaming out loud either, he embraced it. He knew this pain well. Only this time, he was thankful for it. It distracted from the blinding rage that was tearing at his heart. It cleared his mind.

But it also wasted time. Precious time he could already be using to get to his mate.

After what seemed like an eternity, the pain began to subside. But the Dark Lord still didn't speak, which meant he still wasn't allowed to get up. Severus waited, feeling sick to his stomach.

With his usually stalwart mind being so shaken up by the earlier events – it didn't happen every day that you had to helplessly sit and watch as your soulmate got his first kiss by SOMEBODY OTHER THAN YOU! - he knew he hadn't been fully able to shut out the pain of the Cruciatus from Harry. Even though Severus had had enough sense to mentally cloud the fact who and even what was causing the pain or even that it was him who was suffering it, he hadn't been able to hide much of the pain itself.

Harry was sixteen now. Their connection was officially working both ways.

He could tell that Harry had suffered almost as much from the Cruciatus Curse as he had. But as he sat there in front of Voldemort and all the other Death Eaters, on his knees, Severus began to feel another kind of distress pulsating through their soulmate bond, flooding his insides as soon as the Unforgivable made room for it.

Harry's heart was on the verge of breaking.

Vulnerable as he was on this particular day, Harry had just received his very first kiss – against his will and, for whatever reason, without the power to do anything against it. Since Severus had made sure he knew nothing about the curse, Harry probably thought the pain was the result from the kiss itself. And he had read enough about soulmates to know that Severus – if he really _was_ his soulmate - must have felt his pain and distress over the kiss. And that was why Harry couldn't for the life of him imagine whatever 'business' could be so important that it kept Severus away from him even now. Once more, Severus could tell that Harry was beginning to doubt the existence of a soulmate bond between them.

A thought that literally threatened to break his young mate's fragile heart.

But as much as it pained him to just sit here and do nothing to help Harry, Severus knew that one more move from him, however small, without Voldemort's explicit permission would result in nothing but his own death. He didn't even dare to send Harry any consolation through their invisible bond for fear that Voldemort, who he could tell was still watching him closely, would detect their connection and the love they shared.

Severus had never considered himself to be a particularly religious person – maybe no wizard with a true understanding of the Dark Arts could ever be – but now he found himself praying to someone, _anyone_, to help his young mate ease the pain. And maybe there was a God after all. Not long after his silent prayer, Harry calmed down enough for Severus to recognize the presence of his godson by his mate's side. If anyone except Severus was able to pick up the pieces of Harry's breaking heart and put them back together, it was Draco.

It was all up to Draco now, Severus knew. He trusted on his godson to do whatever it would take to heal his mate.

Finally, after what seemed like yet another eternity, the Dark Lord spoke.

'This, as I'm sure you know, was for interrupting me.'

Severus nodded, still not daring to look at the entity in front of him. 'Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord,' was all he knew he was allowed to say and so he did.

'Now, you may leave, Severus,' Voldmort continued and the Spy nodded again.

'Yes, my Lord. Thank you, my Lord.'

Severus got up slowly and, after momentarily swaying on his feet, he thanked Voldemort one last time. Whether it was for the lesson in obedience or for the permission to leave, he didn't really know and he didn't think it mattered. But he made sure to repeat his yeses and thank yous when the Dark Lord ordered him to be back in ten minutes sharp.

* * *

**July 31, 1996 – Harry's sixteenth birthday**

He reached the small window next to the backdoor of the crazy old house (seemingly held together only by magic and not much else) people called "The Burrow", just in time to see Draco's mouth covering Harry's in a small and very gentle kiss.

He exhaled with a sigh before his own mouth curled into a sad smile. Of course he wished he had been here just _one tiny second_ earlier, but he knew Draco had done the only right thing. Severus could tell so by the new calmness, tinted with a small but undeniable amount of excitement, that Harry was sending out now. Harry's inner balance – his heart – was restored, and that was all that mattered.

Somehow the young Slytherin – cunning as he was – had been able to trick Harry into believing that this first kiss – random and so unwanted - hadn't been a real kiss at all by offering Harry a much nicer kiss from somebody who truly loved him – even if the love was that of a brother and not that of a lover.

Yes, trust on Draco Malfoy to be brave enough to do the only right thing he could think of – all the while fearing his godfather's wrath once he was done.

And to be mighty smug about it, too.

'So tell me, Potter!' he asked gleefully. 'Who gave you your first kiss again?'

Somewhat amused, Severus rolled his eyes. Harry, on the other hand, needed a while to open his own. And when he did open them, Severus couldn't help but notice that his young mate was looking a little too starry-eyed for his liking.

'I believe that was you,' he breathed.

'Hmpfh!' Severus said.

Then, without further ado, he yanked open the backdoor. Draco jumped, suddenly looking extremely scared. Harry, on the other hand, didn't seem to be able to move or even breathe at the sight of him.

'Thank you, Draco,' Severus said and smiled to show his godson that he truly meant it. 'I'll take it from here.'

_**To be continued …**_


	35. A kiss, a snuggle and a mighty scare

Chapter 35  
**"A kiss, a snuggle and a mighty scare"**

Draco looked doubtful.

'Yes?' he asked, but Severus knew that it wasn't his ability to handle the situation that was questioned by his godson and the boy's next question proved him right.

'Are we okay?' he asked Severus uncertainly. Then, quickly, he looked over at Harry. 'Are _we_ okay?' he repeated.

'Mhm,' Harry confirmed distractedly, but he wasn't even looking at Draco anymore and only stared at Severus instead.

'Yes, Draco, we are okay. More than okay,' Severus urgently promised the younger Slytherin one more time. 'We'll talk later, but I must ask you to leave now. I only have a few minutes before I need to go back and I need that time to speak to Harry alone.'

'Of course!' Draco exclaimed, suddenly grinning brightly. 'You need to have _The Talk_!' He punctuated his two last words knowingly and a second later he disappeared through the door that led to the living room – obedient godson that he was.

Severus turned to Harry who had yet to say a word.

'Harry!' he said and grabbed the teenager, who was still staring at him silently, by the shoulders. 'What happened here earlier? Who was it that was forcing himself on to you? Who _dared_ to kiss you?! And where is he now? Did he hurt you? Harry, answer me! Who was it?!'

If he didn't know better, he would think that Harry had been Petrified because he still didn't seem able to speak, move or breathe. The poor boy was clearly under shock, or so Severus thought. He suspected that Harry was completely mortified and maybe even fearing his anger over those two unauthorized kisses, and it didn't quite occur to him that Harry was simply overwhelmed by his sudden and unexpected appearance.

And his sudden _very_ possessive behaviour.

'Harry!' He shook his young mate lightly. _The Talk_ didn't quite go as planned. 'Listen, I'm not angry with you. I'm just _very, very_ worried!'

This last sentence, finally, seemed to snap Harry out of his trance to a point where he was at least able to blink a couple of times.

'Were you hurt, Harry? I don't have much time, so I really need to know now!' repeated Severus urgently, desperate to finally know what had been going on while he was wasting his time with the Dark Lord. Harry shook his head at last.

'Uh-uh,' he said blankly.

'And who was it?' Severus again wanted to know. 'Who touched you? HARRY?!'

Another pause.

Blink.

Blink.

'A stripper,' Harry said.

For a moment Severus simply stared at him.

'A … WHAT?!' he roared then. This could only be a joke! It HAD to be a joke. Harry had been forced to give up his first kiss to a …

'A stripper?' he echoed, his eyes bulging. 'You mean a … ?!'

He didn't dare to say it.

'A male stripper,' Harry nodded weakly. 'Apparently Fred and George thought it would be funny if-'

But he didn't finish his sentence, because Severus had already let go of him, turned on his heels and now rushed – his robes billowing dangerously – towards the living room.

'Merlin be damned! Those godforsaken …,' he snarled and tore open the door.

**B A M !!!**

The handle was ripped from his hand as the door flew shut again. The air was suddenly charged with angry magic, but Severus immediately realized that only a relatively small percentage of it was his own. And so he turned around in disbelief. The expression on Harry's face now was a stark contrast to the blank look he had worn until only a moment ago. His fists were clenched, as always when he was agitated, and his green eyes were sparkling angrily. Again, Severus could only stare at the teenager.

'AND THAT IS ALL?' Harry yelled suddenly. 'You say you don't have much time and this is what you're wasting it on? Two other men have kissed me tonight and you have nothing better to do than to run off and give detention? I have waited sixteen years for _this_?!'

His last sentence was a barely understandable roar of frustration and Severus forgot all about his own anger, which immediately caused Harry to calm down significantly himself.

The air around them stopped cackling.

Severus took a deep, preparing breath and walked back to the Gryffindor who was still frowning at him. Gently, the Potions master cupped Harry's face with both of his hands.

'I'm sorry. You're absolutely right, that was thoughtless of me. But I have a confession to make.'

Harry looked up at him questioningly; nervous. The sulking frown had disappeared.

'I have waited over _twenty_ years for this moment and now I have forgotten everything I was ever going to say to you,' Severus confided.

''Happy Birthday, Harry' sounds like a start,' Harry squeaked, his green eyes wide behind his round spectacles.

Severus laughed.

'That is very true,' he nodded. 'Happy sixteenth Birthday, Harry,' he wished quietly and then, ever so gently, he pressed a kiss onto Harry's forehead.

Again, the air around them began to charge with magic. Only this time it wasn't the result of overflowing aggression. It wasn't wrath or jealousy. It was their love.

That and the embarrassment of a very flushed teenage wizard of course.

Wide-eyed, Harry stared at the taller man before swallowing visibly. 'Thank you,' he said and blushed some more before adding 'and I'm sorry!'

'For?' Severus asked softly. His hands were still cradling Harry's glowing face.

He would never let go of the boy go again. Ever.

'A- about the door and all that,' said Harry compunctiously. 'I'm sorry for yelling at you, Professor. I don't know why I got so angry all of a sudden. I didn't mean to.'

Severus grinned.

'I suppose it's fair to say that your anger wasn't entirely your own, don't you agree? I was pretty angry myself after all and …,' he paused meaningfully and his warm smile broadened, '… we _do_ share a soulmate bond, don't we, Potter?'

The effect of these few words was immediate.

Harry's eyes filled with tears and he grabbed Severus's arm as if in need for support. 'Merlin!' he exclaimed weakly and for a while that was all he said. Then, he looked at Severus again.

'Do you have any idea how long I've been waiting to hear these words from you?'

Not as long as I've been waiting to say them,' Severus replied truthfully. When he was sure Harry didn't need his steadying hand any longer, he reluctantly let go of the boy.

'I will have to go back now, forgive me. However, I promise that this conversation is not yet over. All right, Potter?'

He looked at Harry somewhat encouragingly and the teenager nodded, still looking slightly dazed, a little bashful and very, very happy. He followed Severus to the door.

'So come back very soon then, will you?' he said as Severus opened it.

'I will,' Severus promised. 'Bye, Harry!'

But he had only walked a couple of steps out of the Weasley's home when Harry called out after him.

'Wait!'

'What is it?' Severus asked.

'What about that kiss?' Harry asked nervously. 'Those _two_ kisses, I mean.'

Severus stifled a miserable sigh and smiled bravely instead.

'It's fine,' he said. 'If I ever find that stripper, I am going to make him drink a First Year's attempt of the Essence of Insanity, but I'm not mad at Draco if that's what you're afraid of. And I am definitely not mad at you, Harry. I promise.'

Harry stepped out of the house too, closing the door behind him quietly. 'Yes, but … aren't you going to do something about it?' he asked as he walked towards Severus. Although it was dark, Severus could see a new flush of pink appearing on Harry's cheeks. His own heartbeat suddenly doubled.

'Do something?' he echoed. 'What do you mean?'

Harry stopped in front of him. 'Well, don't you want to kiss me yourself?' he asked – still nervous but with the obvious determination of a Gryffindor.

'I want to,' Severus replied honestly. He could not lie. Not right now and not about something as important as their first kiss. 'But I can't, Harry. Not just yet.'

'Not yet? But when?'

'When you're seventeen, Harry,' Severus replied with a smile. 'Good bye now.'

Forcing his heartbeat down to a normal rate, the spy turned to leave. Too bad he didn't have time for a cold shower before he returned to the Dark Lord.

'WAIT!' Harry exclaimed once more.

Somewhat impatiently but smiling still, Severus stopped yet again.

'Harry,' he said warmly, 'I _really_ have to go now.'

'I know,' Harry said quickly. 'But we're not only teacher and student anymore, right? We _are_ soulmates now, too. Right, Professor?'

'Yes, Harry. We have always been soulmates.'

Harry nodded. 'Yes … so … that's why I think it's a little unfair that only _you_ get a say in this matter.'

'I'm sorry, but I'm afraid there's no room for disc-' Severus began, but Harry interrupted him. 'No, I really don't think I can wait another year, Professor!'

Hurriedly, he closed the distance between them, stood up on his tiptoes and boldly wrapped his arms around the Potions master's neck. Severus could have stopped him. But he didn't want to.

_To hell with political correctness. Just this once._

So instead of stopping the impatient teenager, he closed his eyes in expectation of a very eager, very passionate kiss … and was all the more surprised when he felt how Harry suddenly loosened his arms again and slid back to the ground. Startled, Severus opened his eyes. Harry wasn't looking at him, however, but instead inspected the grass beneath his sneakers.

'I'm sorry. That's not how you should do it, I know.You can't just go and press your lips on the other person's mouth, you always have to give them a chance to pull back and say no,' he told Severus very seriously. 'I'm not a stripper after all!'

'Unfortunately,' he deadpanned after a moment and looked up to smile at Severus, but his grin turned out rather lopsidedly and he didn't quite dare to meet the other man's eyes either. And so Harry quickly looked back down on his shoes.

Overcome with love for the adorably embarrassed teen in front of him – the embarrassed teen that would one day soon become his dashing, confident, young husband, Severus knew – the older mate had all but one choice. Severus Snape reached out and placed a hand under Harry Potter's chin, gently forcing it upwards until their eyes met.

'It may not have been completely legal, since you're not of age just yet and I most certainly am, but technically speaking there was absolutely nothing wrong with how you were going to kiss me just now, Mister Potter.'

'No?'

'No. And do you know why?'

Solemnly, Harry shook his head.

'Because we're soulmates, you impertinent, little dunderhead.'

Harry's face broke into a delighted grin.

'Yes, but … aren't you going to do something about it?' he mischievously repeated his earlier question.

The Potions master smirked in defeat.

'I think I might, brat!' he said, lowering his head. 'I think I might.'

And then Severus Snape finally kissed his soulmate.

* * *

Lucius Malfoy hated the cold. 

He knew that for many wizards that knew him this would seem like quite the joke – after all Lucius Malfoy was the epitome of coldness, wasn't he? But it was true nonetheless. Despite what his marble light skin, his fine, silver-blonde hair or even his demeanor conveyed, he despised coldness. As a child, as a teenager and even as a young man Lucius had loved the cold or rather, he had loved everything he associated with it: winter, snow, icicles, frozen lakes, snow carriages, Christmas, hot punch – you name it. That was until he began to associate coldness with _him_. Him, the reason they were all circled around a bloody fire in the middle of summer.

_A fire at the end of July, Salazar be damned!  
_  
The Dark Lord himself, of course, didn't seem to notice that his entourage were blowing their numb fingers as unobtrusively as possible and rattling their teeth equally so whenever he was around. Then again, he did notice, of course – he just didn't care. And as big as Voldemort's ego was, he didn't even realize that he himself was the reason everyone around him was constantly freezing. Having long forgotten something as trivial as the four seasons and with his new body merely being a mortal but otherwise lifeless _shell_ that was hosting his damned soul, Tom Riddle himself was impervious to the cold. And since he was long beyond caring about anybody's wellbeing, he never wondered twice about his Death Eater's constant need for a warming fire – sold to the Dark Lord as nothing but the perfect instrument for ritual, communication and gathering, of course.

It was this lack of understanding that had caused the Dark Lord to oversee something crucial a good one year ago, when he had managed to capture Harry Potter with the help of a bewitched Triwizard Champion Cup. True, Tom Marvolo Riddle was now finally able to touch the boy, but that didn't mean he had the upper hand now. But luckily only Lucius and Severus had noticed this small but important fact: Harry Potter hadn't felt the coldness emanating from the Dark Lord. Voldemort's touch had caused him pain, yes, but he had been impervious to the cold. Unlike them, Harry Potter's lips had not turned blue. Unlike them, he had not begun to shiver. Unlike them, his breath had not become visible. Harry Potter's soul, unlike theirs, had not been penetrated by evil as of yet. He was still the Dark Lord's only true nemesis. He would still be Voldemort's downfall.

As so often before, it was this very thought that unleashed a whole new train of thoughts in Lucius:

When would it happen?  
How would it happen?  
Where would it happen?  
Would he be Harry's legal father by then?  
Would he be present?  
Would he have to protect his new son in this last battle against the Dark Lord?  
Would he be able to protect Harry?  
And how would Harry react to being told about the adoption?  
Would he laugh at the idea?  
Would he cry?  
Would they get along?  
Could he love this boy like his own son?  
And just when was the right time to tell Harry anyway?

Inwardly, Lucius sighed as he began to visualize the scenario in his head:

Lucius: 'And thus my wife and I have decided to adopt you.'  
Harry: (turns very white) 'Wait, are you saying that you'll be my father now?'  
Lucius: 'I suppose. Do you have a problem with that, Harry?'  
Harry: (turns on his heels and flees …never to be seen again.)

_No, not good.  
_  
Lucius: 'Harry Potter, you will be a Malfoy from now on.'  
Harry: (turns green) A Malfoy? What, do you want to adopt me or something?'  
Lucius: 'Yes. I don't really have a choice on this matter, I'm afraid.'  
Harry: 'Well, luckily I have a choice.'  
Lucius: 'And that is?'  
Harry: 'To say thanks but no thanks, of course!' (shakes his head, laughs and walks away)

_Let's try again, shall we?!  
_  
Lucius: 'Harry Potter, I'm your father now.  
Harry: (gapes) 'My father?'  
Lucius: 'That's right.'  
Harry: 'MUAHAHAHAHAHA! Draco, you never told me that your father was funny!'

_Imp. Another try.  
_  
Lucius: 'Harry Potter, would you like to be a member of this family?'  
Harry: (shy) 'Yes, please.'  
Lucius: 'Very well, then. Just sign the papers here and here, boy.'  
Harry: (scribbles down a signature and beams at Lucius) 'Can I call you 'dad' now?'  
Lucius: …

_Almost. Again.  
_  
Lucius: 'Harry Potter, would you like to be a member of this family?'  
Harry: (shy) Yes, sir. I'd like that very much, if you please.  
Lucius: 'Very well. Sign these papers.'  
Harry: (signs papers very neatly) Thank you, sir.  
Lucius: Welcome to the family, Harry. (they formally shake hands.)  
Harry: Thank you very much, sir.

_There! I might even get used to the idea after all._

It was a welcomed distraction, when the Dark Lord finally granted a twenty minute break in order for them to do … well, whatever normal human beings (yes, even his most loyal followers!) had to do sometimes, as much as it must pain their not-quite-human leader to admit it. Either way, Lucius was glad for the opportunity to uncramp his legs and relieve his bladder at last.

Unfortunately, the latter was a more than disgraceful act when attending one of Voldemort's little gatherings. Too paranoid to let them out of his sight (as if anyone whose name didn't happen to be Harry Potter would ever attempt to curse him from behind!) and too little human to feel or even remember such basic needs himself, the Dark Lord didn't allow them to magick up an adequate facility in his range, which meant they had to act like any plebeian Muggle.

Cursing silently, Lucius stepped away from the gooseberry bush a few minutes later. And as he glumly straightened his robes, his thoughts once more returned to the raven-haired teenager on whose skinny little shoulders all their hopes were resting upon. Lucius caught himself growing more and more impatient with every passing day; every Death Eater assembly, every order, every punishment, every time the Dark Mark burnt into his skin.

When would the Dark Lord's reign finally come to an end?

So maybe it wasn't fair to leave it all to a child. And who knew?! Maybe they had it all wrong and Harry James Potter was nothing but an innocent, average, overestimated and hence very unfortunate teenage wizard, but damn it! It was about high time he fulfilled that prophecy just the same.

He wanted his life back.

And maybe, just maybe, the adoption papers waiting to be signed by the wizarding world's Golden Child would be the first step towards fulfillment of the very prophecy that spoke of Tom Riddle's defeat. Maybe destiny was putting Severus Snape's little soulmate in his care for a reason!

It was Lucius's firm belief that one could not fight against the Dark Art sufficiently without using it himself. In fact, Lucius Malfoy didn't believe there was such a thing as "Dark Art" in the first place. The magic that was pulsing through their blood was a gift and not a curse. And a gift as rare and wondrous as theirs could never be dark or forbidden by itself; it was the wizard using his craft that could make it so.

Unfortunately, the majority of the wizarding world didn't share his sentiments and so schools had come to teach their children to fight against the Dark Art with hardly more than a disarming spell and maybe, if they felt really daring, a projection spell, too. Or then, they were quite possibly supposed to simply throw a few heavy books around in the hope that they might knock out their opponents, if Dolores Umbridge's way of teaching "Defense Against The Dark Arts" was any indication. Well, and the latter was not an option for a wizard who was supposed to save the world.

It was certainly no option for a Malfoy.

Yes, he knew about the little army of students that Harry had assembled around him and that was all fine and well and really quite remarkable, but by Gods, those miniature fighters were children still!

The boy who lived had undeniable potential and Lucius already knew he would grow up to be a formidable wizard (not only because he had witnessed the boy's raw power before, but also because he already knew Harry Potter would soon begin to travel time, something which was completely unheard of unless you counted the use of a Time-Turner and even that device had its limits), but he needed proper training. He needed a deeper understanding of the so-called "Dark Art" to prevail over Lord Voldemort and Hogwarts wasn't the place to give him that. Yet. If Harry was to face the Dark Lord in their final battle, a simple Expelliarmus wouldn't do.

But even Severus believed that the core of Harry's power – his infallible shield - was love. Namely, the love that had made Lily Evans give her life in order to protect her only son. However, Lucius did not share this belief. While it might well be true that love had been and forever would be Harry's main motivation to fight Voldemort successfully, he didn't believe that Lily had given her son everlasting protection or any other special powers when she chose to die for him. He had seen too many mothers throwing themselves over their children in order to protect their lives from the Dark Lord, even if that noble action might be the last thing they would do (and more often than not that's exactly what it had been) and as far as Lucius was aware, none of the few children lucky enough to survive it all had turned out to be any more special than other children.

No, Harry's power came from no one but Harry himself, Lucius was sure of that. The boy was a raw diamond, but even the brightest of minds needed a teacher. A mentor. A guardian.

And maybe – just maybe – he was supposed to fill this role in Harry Potter's life.

The sight of his approaching friend interrupted Lucius Malfoy's train of thought. Once again glad for the disruption (By Merlin, one could think he was becoming as obsessed with the Golden Boy as his wife and son!), Lucius watched as Severus Snape came closer. On first glance, the snarky, old Potions master looked as bitter and gloomy as ever. There was no indication that he had just come back from meeting the love his life.

Well, almost no indication.

There was a certain _glow_ about the other man, Lucius guessed was the best way to put it. Taking into account their surroundings and company, which generally turned even the most emotionally crippled among them into haggard bundle of nerves, it was almost unsettling to see this usually tense and guarded spy this … at ease with himself and the world around him. However, only a fool would ever mistake this relaxed and confident air with carelessness and Lucius wasn't going to be one of them. He knew that Severus Snape was still very much aware of everything that was going on around him. The only difference being, that for once he didn't seem to mind it. Unlike the majority of men around him who were oozing submission (and if only to save their own skin), Lucius realized that Severus carried himself like a man whose entire central point of life – whose entire reason for being – had just shifted.

He wasn't living his life for Voldemort anymore.  
He wasn't living it for the loony geezer and his Phoenix entourage either.  
He wasn't even living it for kith and kin.  
Severus Snape was alive for only one person in this world.

Harry Potter.

'And we're back to that little twerp again,' Lucius thought somewhat exasperated.

_Harry. Harry. Harry. _

Salazar be damned! He would have to seek therapy if that green-eyed imp kept dominating his thoughts like this …

Suddenly someone roughly bumped into his shoulder from behind. Lucius drove around, his wand ready, only to find himself staring into the crunched up face of Harry Potter, who was rubbing his right temple.

'Ouch!' the boy mumbled and Lucius noticed not only that his ridiculously round glasses were absent from the boy's rather handsome, suddenly matured face _('Being sixteen becomes him!')_ but also that the boy was looking at him with no trace of fear or anxiety or any other emotion that one could expect on the Golden Boys face while suddenly standing in front of Lucius Malfoy, right in the middle of a Death Eater meeting.

'Why did you Apparate us?' Harry Potter wanted to know now and Lucius's mouth almost dropped open as realization hit him.

**HOLY SPIRIT OF MERLIN!**

But before his mind could process another conscious thought, his body reacted and he pulled the boy behind the gooseberry bush and out of anyone's sight and pressed him as far into it as the branches would allow.

Shocked, he stared at the teenage boy whose eyes were now growing as wide as his own. This wasn't _the_ Harry Potter; the one who had turned sixteen today! This was his _future_ version instead; the one Severus and Draco had told him about. This was time-traveling Harry, wasn't it?! It had to be.

'Dad?' Harry Potter asked. 'What's wrong? Where are we?'

He looked around and then back at Lucius, clearly expecting an answer, but Lucius wasn't able to give one yet. His head had to stop spinning first.

_Dad._

Harry Potter had just called him _dad_.

Even Draco usually addressed him with the more formal "father", but this particular Harry Potter didn't seem to see any need to be formal with him – anymore.

_He calls me his dad._

For weeks he had been driving himself insane with his own uneasiness when imagining Harry's possible question of how to address him once he was an official member of the family and his own indignation at the idea of being called "father" by James Potter's offspring.

And here Harry Potter was, calling him dad.

_Dad._

And for some reason this felt perfectly right to Lucius.

Suddenly, a strong hand closed around his shoulder and pulled him away from Harry Potter.

_Son._

Severus Snape was looking at both of them with a shocked expression that Lucius was sure equaled his own and suddenly he realized how the scene must look to his friend; him pressing Severus's mate into the bush; his fists clenched around the boy's shirt collar … Lucius dropped his hands and hastened to explain.

'I wasn't hurting him, Severus, I was hiding him!'

'I know,' Severus said, dropping his own hand from his friend's shoulder before turning to look at the teenager (_young man_, Lucius finally corrected himself). Quietly but urgently he explained the situation to his young soulmate: 'Harry, you have traveled back into time. But you could've not chosen a worse moment for we are at a Death Eater's meeting here!'

'We are?' Harry replied in a tone of voice he might as well have used to say 'Awesome!'

Curiously, he tried to peek from behind the bush, but Severus and Lucius simultaneously reached out and pushed him back.

'What are you doing?' Severus hissed. 'You need to go back to where you came from! Right now, Harry!'

Harry grinned. 'And maybe I would, if I knew how to.'

He looked at Lucius. 'I bet I've given you quite a scare again back there, you hate it when I do this. Sorry, da- Lucius.' Harry smiled apologetically and Lucius's head felt like it was spinning again. The perfectly trusting and confident way with which Harry spoke to him was enough to make any Malfoy dizzy.

Next to him Severus suddenly cursed. 'Goyle! He's coming here. Lucius, we have to get Harry out of here.'

'I can stay!' Harry protested. 'I can make myself invisible!'

'Don't be absurd! You don't have your cloak!' Severus hissed.

'It's an Invisibility Cloak, Severus, it's invisible!' Harry quipped, but they could all see that his soulmate wasn't in the mood for jokes.

'Don't worry about me, Sev!' Harry said gently. Then he closed his eyes and appeared to be concentrating on something and suddenly … he vanished.

Lucius sighed in relief.

'He's still here,' explained Severus quietly, his voice strained with worry.

'Who is?' a voice behind them asked and both men turned around to see Gregory Goyle's father, looking at them curiously.

'Who do you think?' Severus snapped viciously, causing Goyle Sr. to keep a respectful distance. 'Only the very reason why we're all assembled here night after night.'

'Oh, you were talking about Potter!' Goyle's face lightened up in happy understanding. 'Yes, that boy's a right pain in the arse, isn't he?'

'You could say that,' Lucius muttered and only just held back a highly undignified squeak when an invisible elbow nudged into his side.

_That little …!_

'The boy who just didn't know when to die,' Goyle cited, chuckling at his own joke. 'But don't worry. Our Master will kill the little pest eventually, you know he will.'

'Of course he will,' Severus nodded curtly. 'Goyle, I think that Parkinson over there is looking for you,' he lied then, pretending to look over the plump man's shoulder and both he and Lucius sighed in relief when Goyle quickly excused himself and scurried off.

Both men turned to face the gooseberry bush again where they expected the invisible Harry Potter, when a loud "OUCH!" made them look behind them once more.

Goyle was just getting up from all fours, rubbing one of his shins as he did so. Once he was standing upright again, he turned around his own axis, seemingly in search for an object on the ground that had apparently caused him to trip and fall. None of the three men could see any such object, however, and Lucius thought he knew just who and what had made the Death Eater stumble.

Apparently Severus did too.

'HARRY!' he hissed angrily, stepping behind the bush. A few moments later Harry Potter materialized in front of them again.

'Sorry, I just couldn't resist!' he chuckled, but he immediately fell silent when he saw his mate's face.

'Sev!' he began placatingly, but then the Potions master grabbed him by the arm and began to shake it angrily. Severus's face had lost all color.

'What do you think you're doing?' he snarled. 'Are you trying to get yourself killed?'

'Sev,' Harry tried to reason. 'I'm from the future. I already know that nothing will happen to me today. You and Lucius would have warned me about this trip otherwise.'

'Your trust in me is very honorable,' Lucius retorted, 'but I'd rather you left back to your own time now. And before you get one of _us_ killed, if you please!'

'But I don't know how,' Harry insisted. Miserably, he looked at Lucius. 'I'll just try to Apparate back home, then. But I don't know if I can.'

'You can make yourself invisible, I'm sure a simple Apparition will be no problem for you,' Lucius snapped and Harry nodded quickly.

'Alright, alright, I'll try!'

'Oh no, you won't!' Severus chimed in, taking a hold of Harry's arm once more. 'Have both of you lost your mind? Harry, I think we and our future counterparts would very much prefer if you arrived back in your own time in one piece and without various limbs stuck in various times and places. You will never – and I mean NEVER! – attempt an Apparition again while you're not in your own time! Am I making myself clear?'

Harry frowned.

'Yes, sir!' he snapped irritably.

Suddenly, a horn blew from somewhere behind them.

'Break's over,' Lucius explained upon seeing Harry Potter's startled expression.

'You go back, Lucius,' Severus said. 'I'll try to bring Harry somewhere safe.'

'You don't have to!' Harry protested. 'I'll just make myself invisible again until I disappear for good. I will not bother you any longer now, don't worry, Severus!'

Harry glared at the Potions master, but his bottom lip was quivering suspiciously. Severus's expression softened.

'Harry,' he addressed his young mate more gently this time. He put both his hands on the young man's shoulders and then pulled him into a hug. 'Stop sulking already, love! Don't you understand what a mighty scare you have given us? Can't you see that I'm worried sick about you?'

'Of course I see that,' Harry admitted, his voice muffled by the fabric of the older men's black robes he had buried his face in. 'I just hate when you two are angry with me, is all.'

Another horn sounded. There wouldn't be a third time.

'I hate to interrupt you two lovebirds, but we really need to go back now, Severus! You know that the Dark Lord doesn't take waiting all that well.'

Suddenly, an idea popped into his head. So unreal, so unthinkable, so irresistible, so wonderful … he just _had_ to ask.

'Potter … can't you just … I mean … wouldn't this be the perfect opportunity to fulfill that darned prophecy?'

Still leaning against Severus, Harry turned his head to look at him. And kill the Dark Lord now?' he asked with a smile. Lucius could only nod.

'Not yet, Lucius,' Harry said softly. 'Sorry.'

Then he pulled himself from his soulmate's embrace. 'But you two really need to go back now before I _will _get you into trouble!'

'Harry, I won't allow you to stay here, not even invisible!' Severus insisted and Harry quickly shook his head. 'I won't, I promise. I have another idea.'

He reached out a hand towards Lucius.

'Will you give me your ring?' he asked and for a moment Lucius could only stare dumbfoundedly. Then, he raised his own left hand and looked at the silver snake that curled around his middle finger there.

How did Harry know about this ring?

'You've given it to me before, you know?' Harry said as if he had read his thoughts. A mischievous smile was playing around the boy's lips.

Those words were enough to throw Lucius's head back into a spin, but luckily he possessed enough sense of mind to take off the ring beforehand.

'Portus,' he said hoarsely, tapping the ring with his wand.

Then, he held out the ring for Harry to take. Harry pressed a quick kiss on Severus's cheek. 'I'll see you,' he said and then, taking the ring from Lucius: 'Thanks _daddy_!'

One last wink, a chuckle … and Harry was gone.

'Where did you send him? Where did he go?' Severus asked as they quickly walked back towards the fire around which most Death Eaters were already seated again, obediently facing their Master.

'He's safe now, Severus.' Lucius replied calmly. 'I've sent him home.'

* * *

Harry didn't remember walking back into the Burrow. He only realized that he had, when somebody ordered: 

'Merlin, Potter, will you _please_ wipe that stupid grin off your face?'

Draco sat on the staircase and rolled his eyes heavily. Harry laughed. He sat down next to his friend, but didn't say anything until the other boy nudged him.

'So, Four-eyes, I take it you've snogged our Potions master?'

Harry didn't have time to reply, because Draco's question was immediately followed by a swat over the head.

'I told you to wipe off that grin, Potter!'

'Jealous, Malfoy?' Harry quipped.

'Me?!' Draco drew himself up to full height. 'Why should I be jealous? The Golden Virgin's first kiss,' - he paused briefly to dodge Harry's fist - 'is mine forever, but still his soulmate did not (I repeat, did not) rip me apart. I have no reason to be jealous, I _rule_.'

Now it was Harry who rolled his eyes.

'Have you always known that he was my soulmate?' he asked. 'That night when I stayed at your place and you asked me about Professor Snape, did you already know about us?'

Draco shook his head.

'No, I didn't. I was pretty certain about the whole soulmate bond thing, but I didn't know anything for sure. But when I asked Sev about it the next day, he admitted that it was true.'

'And you never said anything?' Harry whined. 'That's not fair!'

'Complain to your _mate_, will you? I wasn't allowed to tell you! He wanted you to figure it all out on your own,' answered Draco with a lazy wave of his hand.

'Took you long enough,' he added as an afterthought.

Harry smiled distractedly, his thoughts clearly somewhere else again. Draco sighed.

'Is this what it will be like from now on?' he lamented. 'Will you have this disgustingly dreamy look on your face for the rest of your life? Will you paint pink, little hearts in all your notebooks saying "H + S forever"? And during Potions, will you gaze at Severus with starry eyes and sigh wistfully every two minutes? Will you-'

'Shut up!' Harry laughed. 'I'm not that bad!'

'Not yet,' Draco replied prognosticatively. 'But I'm sure you will be soon enough. People in love are so _annoying_!'

'I'm beginning to think you _are_ jealous,' Harry joked, patting his friend's shoulder sympathetically. 'Sad that I'm not in love with you, Malfoy?'

'Devastated,' the Slytherin retorted dryly. Then, grinning impishly, he asked: 'Who's the better kisser then, me or our old Potions master?'

Harry blushed so spectacularly that Draco gleefully decided to press the matter.

'I mean, it's obvious you're not exactly heartbroken over not getting that famous first kiss from your own soulmate!' he teased.

'Draco, be quiet!' Harry moaned, blushing even more. 'I … you …I mean …,' he stuttered and Draco snickered.

'Yes? You were saying, Potter?'

'You're a really good kisser,' Harry mumbled, looking absolutely mortified at his own confession. 'I don't mind having kissed you before him. In a way I'm glad I did, because then I kind of knew what to expect when I kissed Prof- Severus.'

The words came tumbling out in a rush until Harry finally stumbled over the word 'Professor' and he corrected himself with some obvious effort; the name of his own soulmate still somewhat of an alien weight on his tongue. But soon he smiled and his eyes glazed over once more as he remembered the kiss he had just shared with Severus. Only this time he continued to speak before Draco could do him any bodily harm.

'Still, _his_ kiss was completely different,' he said, suddenly sounding as awestruck as he looked. 'I'm not necessarily saying it was better than _your_ kiss,' he added quickly. 'But it was just … different. Like … I was nervous to do something wrong, yes, but at the same time it felt like we have kissed each other a million times before. And …,' he paused, trying to form his experience into words, 'Before, I had so many questions about the whole soulmate thing. I've always hoped that my mate was Severus, but when Sirius told me that my mate hated me, I was terrified. I was terrified that Snape could still hate me and that he didn't want me! But at the same time I knew that he didn't hate me and feared this could only mean that he _wasn't_ my mate. And that thought terrified me even more. You know?' he asked, uncertainly.

Draco nodded.

'I had so many questions! But when he kissed me tonight … I didn't have to ask anything at all, because I suddenly knew the answers. I could _feel_ them in his kiss! Does that make sense?'

Again, Draco nodded.

'Well, as much sense as this whole soulmate talk can make to anyone who hasn't a soulmate himself, I suppose,' he said, ending his sentence with a mock sob before pushing out his bottom lip into a spectacular pout.

'And they say I'm the Drama Queen!' Harry grinned. Then, he threw his arms around the Slytherin's neck and pressed his face tightly against the other. 'Poor little dragon! But you don't need a soulmate, you're a Malfoy! The _whole world_ loves you, doesn't it?! Besides, just because Severus and I are soulmates, doesn't mean we don't love you just as much as we love each other!' he promised, still clinging to his friend with all his might.

'Get off me, Potter!' Draco laughed as he tried to push Harry away. 'You're _so_ gay!' He shook his head with mock disgust, but unfortunately his trademark sneer was completely ruined by the fact that he looked much too pleased.

Of course, Harry noticed this too and so he wasn't in a hurry to let go of his friend just yet. He merely loosened his grip but continued to hug the Slytherin all the same as he put his head on Draco's shoulder. Draco let him be, shaking his head with a smile.

'Dracooo?' Harry sweetly interrupted the silence some time later.

'What do you want?'

'When will I get my ultra-special-super-cool-better-than-anything-and-very-secret present?' Harry tweeted.

'Tsk! You found your soulmate today, Potter, and you're still not satisfied?! How do you know that this wasn't my present?'

'Well, I know _you_!' Harry reasoned.

Draco grinned. 'Well,' he said importantly. 'I'm awfully sorry, you clingy little something, but I won't be able to give you my present here. You will get it when you come back home.'

'Back home,' Harry echoed happily, his voice full of wonder. 'Snape Manor ismy home now, yes?'

Draco couldn't reply right away, grinning as broadly as he was.

Even though Harry's assumption was nothing but the truth, he hadn't been referring to _Snape_ Manor. But of course Harry couldn't know that there was yet another family waiting to be his.

'Yes, Potter, I suppose being my godfather's soulmate implies that his home is your home, too.'

'Awesome!' Harry beamed, snuggling closer still.

Draco began to laugh.

'What's up with you, Potter? You never struck me as the cuddly type before!'

Not looking remotely embarrassed, Harry merely shrugged. 'I've never been cuddly before because I never had anyone to cuddle me,' he confirmed matter-of-factly. 'But now I do and now I want to snuggle.'

Surprised and amused, Draco wrapped his arms around the smaller boy with a heavy sigh. 'Honestly, Potter! If I had known that your sixteenth birthday would turn into a cheese-fest, I wouldn't have come,' he complained, smiling.

Harry grinned. 'Yes, you would have.'

'Hmpfh,' Draco agreed. 'But I will have to talk to Severus and tell him that I'm not his soulmate's guinea pig whenever he's not around.'

He quickly pressed a kiss on Harry's head.

'And now can we please go back inside before the Mudblood finds us and thinks I'm gay, too?' he smirked. He got up and pulled Harry with him.

'Up, Potter! We have some Weasleys to hex.'

_**To be continued …**_


	36. Never Again

Chapter 36  
**"Never Again"**

His head – no, his entire body - felt like somebody had transfigured it into a volcano waiting to erupt. Hot shivers coursed down his spine and a headache was throbbing underneath his feverish temples. The weight of his t-shirt seemed to be burning right into his skin and so he pulled it off and threw it aside carelessly. But as soon as his bare feet exchanged the carpet with the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, Harry regretted his decision to discard it. Now shivering, he stepped in front of the sink and pulled his illegal wand from the waistband of his baggy pajama pants to perform the teeth brushing spell Draco had shown him last Christmas. Afterwards he studied his own face in the mirror.

Today, did he look any different?

_I'm sixteen,_ _Severus is my soulmate and he doesn't hate me. I must look different somehow. Mature. Handsome. Grown-up. Something. Please.  
_  
Carefully, Harry took stock of his own features.

Hair – still messy.  
Eyes – still two.  
Nose – still snubby.  
Mouth …

Unconsciously, he brought up a hand to touch his mouth and (resolutely ignoring the way his clammy fingers shook) felt his lips turn upwards into a smile. His mouth at least _had_ changed since his birthday four days ago - from unkissed to kissed.

The world around Harry suddenly began to spin and, completely unfazed, he grabbed the sink for support. Only when the urge to vomit into same had finally passed, he was able to step under a very hot shower that would hopefully wash his shivers away. Half an hour later, Harry stepped into the Black's kitchen where everyone was already waiting for Molly's breakfast. Already, he could tell that he had put on too many layers of clothes to make him feel a little warmer. It was just too bloody hot after all!

Severus still hadn't come back.

Sirius mumbled a somewhat awkward hello and Molly Weasley wore her usual look of concern when they noticed him. Only Professor Lupin, Hermione and Ron smiled welcomingly and even Fred and George each blew a kiss in the air for him. Harry chuckled. Thankfully, these two pranksters didn't lose their good humor even when the joke was on them. It would take a while until the red lipstick he had hexed on them on his birthday would wear off, Harry supposed, but the twins seemed to find their new look rather hilarious. Draco, of course, thought this only meant Harry should come up with a better revenge (and had suggested hexing their lips right off), but since the Slytherin hadn't dared to cast his own spell "on Weasley turf", these _kissable_ red pouts had to make do.

Harry sat down between Lupin and Hermione, returned George's flirtatious wink with a smile of his own, and began to pour himself some coffee – a task he had to interrupt when his whole body began to shake quite violently once more. Professor Lupin took the coffeepot from his hands and wordlessly completed the task for him. But Harry missed the accusing look the werewolf sent across the table towards his friends, when Hermione gently asked:

'How are you feeling today, Harry?'

'I'm fine, thank you,' Harry replied evenly. 'Thanks, Professor.'

He accepted his filled coffee cup gratefully. Remus Lupin looked like he didn't believe a word, but Harry meant it. He _was_ fine. Before is sixteenth birthday, he had spent month after month trying to come to terms with the fact that this very birthday would doom him to wither and die a lonely death; deprived of the love and care of a soulmate. Now that he knew that Severus was not only the soulmate he had always hoped and dreamed for, but also had no intention whatsoever to leave Harry behind to wither and die without him – Harry had lost all fear. Now, he was more than happy and willing to deal with a few shivers, headaches and slightly elevated temperatures, because those symptoms didn't speak of loneliness and death anymore. No more was his malady a testament of the love Harry would never experience; it was now a promise of the love he would experience soon. Very soon. _With_ Severus.

As soon as Severus came back, that was.

Well, or at least as soon as he turned seventeen.

_Heh._

Either way, Severus would return soon. He had to! His body was growing more and more disagreeable over this substantial lack of … well … _Severus_ and he was going to be _real_ cranky soon, Harry could tell. But no matter! Severus would come and get him before things got out of hands.

_And hopefully before I give anyone a reason to kick me out, too._

Hot. Cold. Hot. Cold. Harry could feel another headache coming up and quickly took a few large sips of his coffee to let the hot liquid warm his insides temporarily. Molly Weasley came around the table to serve him some toast, but he didn't notice in time how she reached out to feel the temperature of his forehead and jerked away when the touch of her hand stung into his skin, burning its way right down to the bone.

'You're having a fever again, dear,' Mrs Weasley said. His violent reaction had upset her, Harry could tell, but he didn't have the energy to make amends. Ron's mum knew he couldn't stand to be touched these days. They all did and kept their respectful distance, so why couldn't she?

'Hm,' Harry replied non-committedly. What good did it do to argue?

_And here we go. Another headache._

'You should go back to bed right after breakfast, dear, and then we'll try and get you some other medicine. I really don't think the potions that Professor Snape has been giving you have been working all that well,' Mrs Weasley went on and Harry felt the little hairs on his neck begin to rise.

_Damn._

During these past four days, he had complained _not once_ about being unwell or even mentioned Severus's name at all, although everyone at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place seemed to know about their bond by now. Those few cherished memories of how Severus had looked at him that night of his birthday, how he had spoken about their bond, how he had held him and of how they had kissed were too precious to let them be tainted by anyone's invidious remarks. And so he had been very careful to not give anyone at Number twelve, Grimmauld Place a reason to speak ill of his mate. And yet for some reason, it was always the Order members who disliked Severus the most, like Sirius or Molly Weasley, who managed to drop his name to _Harry_ one way or the other – almost as if they wanted to provoke a reaction out of him.

But he would not be the resident drama queen anymore. The truth was that Harry had a much more important reason for not blowing his fuse this time around. Severus was with Voldemort and hence in potential mortal danger pretty much every second of the day and he was determined not to add to this danger by sending any signs of distress (be it mental or physical,) through the bond they shared. He would not distract Severus from whatever it was he was doing and just sit this out.

'It's not his fault.' he replied, subdued. 'As long as Severus isn't going to dissolve himself into his _medicine_, it will never help me. Stop pretending that I have a cold, please. I'm not ill; I need to be with my soulmate. I miss him and that is all.'

'And that is all,' Sirius mocked, but Harry recognized that there was a great deal more resignation than spite in his godfather's voice. 'Then where, pray tell, is that that wonderful _soulmate_ of yours? Isn't it the job of every soulmate to make sure that his partner is okay? So why is _he_ not making sure you're well during his absence?'

'Sirius,' Professor Lupin warned.

'I don't know, you tell me,' Harry said quietly. 'Because it's also his job to be out there and do the dirty work for _you_, maybe?'

Sirius opened his mouth … and closed it again.

'Harry,' Lupin tried to intervene once more, but Harry was already getting up from the table. 'Excuse me, I'm going back to bed,' he said.

Disappointed, he left the kitchen and after passing the portrait of his godfather's mother ('You filthy mudblood lover, you!' – 'Oh, sod off, Nazi!'), he began to climb up the steps that led to his bedroom, when suddenly the headache overpowered him and Harry's world turned black. Unconsciously, he collapsed on the stairs – elegantly sliding back down a few – and didn't know that he spent the next three minutes lying there alone until two strong arms lifted him up and carried him out of the house – deaf to the protests of most its inhabitants.

* * *

_It was rather unfair if you thought about it._

_Every boy who tried to get into the Slytherin girls' dormitory would not only forever be unsuccessful no matter how innocent and pure his intentions, but he would also be rewarded with a wack over the head and a kick in the butt by the marble statue of Salazar Slytherin's wife Sariella. If a girl wanted to get into the boys' dormitory, however, no matter how dubious her intentions, all she needed to do was knock. _

_Even if that girl wasn't even a Slytherin. _

'_I know you're in there, Severus.'_

_Severus Snape did not reply, choosing to ignore the well-known voice of Lily Evans standing just outside his dormitory. He inched backwards – as far away from the door and her voice as possible - until he reached the backrest of his bed. Then he leaned over to one side and picked up a random book from that big pile of notes, drawings, books and journals that always stood next to his bed and that no house elf was ever allowed touch. If he could have it his way, he would never leave this room and this bed again ever - until the beginning of the holidays. He was in no way a stranger to humiliation, but this time the Marauders had really outdone themselves._

'_I know you're in there, Severus!' Lily repeated, in a sing-song this time._

Oh, for Merlin's sake!

'_Do not dare to come in!' Severus barked at last, hexing all four curtains around his four-poster bed closed. When the door opened and a decidedly female footstep could be heard walking into the room, he raised the book up in front of his nose for good measure._

'_Like any true Gryffindor! Never respecting anyone's privacy,' he snarled, reprimanding his book but meaning Lily. 'I don't want to talk to you and I don't want to see you, can't you respect that?'_

'_I could if I wanted to' Lily said blithely and Severus saw a patch of curtain to his right move backwards (although it luckily remained shut) before he felt his mattress move under the additional weight. _

'_I did not invite you to sit down on my bed, Evans!'_

'_No, I suppose you didn't,' Lily said, still sounding completely unconcerned. 'I'm a _girl_ after all, so why would you?' She giggled a little at her own joke (Severus remained silent for such an unqualified question did not merit a response), but soon fell quiet. Severus almost went back to pretending reading the book in his hands, when Lily suddenly exclaimed: 'Gosh, are you reading all these?'_

_He heard her rummaging through his stuff and before he could open his mouth and yell, she went on: '_Arythmancy for the Gifted_ … humble much?'_

_Severus gritted his teeth and did not bother with a reply. Another unqualified question._

'The Icarus Effect – Why Vampires fly_,' Lily cited another book title. 'And what's this? _Blood – Necessary Nutrition or Urban Legend?_ Merlin, now I know why your vampire essay was the best of the class. You're really into this stuff, aren't you?' she asked conversationally and didn't flinch in the slightest, when Severus finally tore the curtains open and lunged towards her. He saw that Lily was holding a good half of the pile from next to his bed in her lap and yanked the book she was holding from of her hands. _

'_My essay was the best of the class because I'm the smartest of the class! Now take your hands off my belongings, if you please!' he snarled._

'_Okay, okay,' Lily said, still completely unconcerned and probably knowing fully well that she was one out of the only three students at Hogwarts in no danger to be accidentally hexed into a coma by Severus Snape._

Stupid redheads.

'_What do you want, Evans?' he asked at last._

'_They're all morons and you know that.' Her voice was gentle suddenly – even loving - and Severus thought she sounded a lot like Priya right now. Well, he wouldn't have it._

'_I repeat,' he repeated. 'What do you want, Evans?'_

'_If you need a reason then how about, I'm here to apologize for every little failure and dysfunctional defect of every single Gryffindor at this school? And all post-graduates, too, while I'm at it?' Lily Evans offered._

_Severus grinned. Or at least he tried. What came out instead, however, was a sneer that would have sent every other girl running. Not Lily._

_Never Lily._

'_And if I didn't need a reason?'_

'_Then I'd be here because I wanted to see you - and because I've always wanted to be in a boys' dormitory, of course. Especially a Slytherin's!' Lily grinned before her features softened significantly. For a moment Severus almost feared she would reach out and take a hold of one of his hands, but fortunately he was spared this gesture of sympathy. Lily out of all people was one of the few who understood how much he despised to be touched._

'_Like I said, the Marauders are idiots,' she said instead, 'And I have told them so. And I don't expect you to believe this, but they are sorry. Well, James and Remus are, at least.'_

_Severus snorted bitterly, but didn't say anything. Surely, even Lily realized that the only thing Potter and Lupin were sorry about was the fact that they had made Lily Evans angry with them, but not that they had dangled Severus upside down in front of just about the entire school. _

Flying robes and everything.

_Potter's taunts about his scrawny legs, knobby knees and grey underwear were still echoing in his head. Even though he had long come to realize that James Potter wasn't his Intended, the Gryffindor's words had a tendency to cut into him like nobody else's ridicules ever did._

What if he will look at me the same way?

'_James has promised me that he will be nice to you from now on,' Lily continued, but upon seeing Severus's very skeptical face, she quickly corrected herself. 'Well, maybe nice is too big a word, but we've made a deal and if I stick to my part of it, he will never pick a fight with you again.'_

'_You've made a deal with Potter?' Severus asked incredulously and Lily nodded._

'_I'll go out on a date with him next Hogsmeade weekend.' she replied surprisingly evenly, considering that the color of her cheeks was suddenly clashing with her red hair._

'_I don't need you to do that for me!' Severus snapped._

'_I know, and it's not like I'm about to sacrifice myself for you. I _want_ to go.'_

'_But you don't like him!' the Slytherin spluttered. 'He's mean. He's arrogant. He's a twit.'_

_Lily shrugged. 'Yes, well, some people say the same about you and I like you anyway. Must be I have a thing for bad boys, eh?' She winked at him, but Severus could not find this exchange amusing. Lily sighed._

'_Look, I told him that you're smart and funny underneath that abrasive shell of yours,' she said softly, but this time her green eyes didn't meet his. Her restless hands flicked through the pile of journals, papers and notebooks in her lap on their own accord, but she didn't even seem to register her own movements as she continued to speak, 'and that he was a right idiot for not bothering to look behind it. And then James told me he would stop being a right idiot on the day I stopped being one myself. I asked him what he meant by it and he said that he was smart and funny, too, behind that arrogant shell of his and yet I never bothered to look behind that either. I realized he had a point and – Oh!'_

_Severus, who had watched Lily's mouth until now, fascinated by her words despite himself, was so startled by the sudden interruption of her monologue that it took him a moment to realize what she was suddenly staring at. She was holding one of Severus's drawings in her hands._

_One of his drawings._

_One of his …_

_Him._

_His soulmate._

'_That's amazing,' Lily breathed. 'Did you draw this, Sev?'_

_She looked at the dark-haired Slytherin who had paled noticeably. _

'_It's not James!' he replied and despite the fact that his teeth were clenched, it came out every bit as desperate as he felt that moment. He reached out for the charcoal drawing, but didn't dare to pry the paper from Lily's fingers for fear of damaging it. This was the only 'real' proof he had of … _HIM_; of his existence. He hadn't counted the number of tries it had taken him to capture the image of his soulmate on a sheet of paper in a way that did justice to the picture that was tattooed across his heart, but this had been the first truly successful attempt of … many. _

_Many._

_If he lost it … _

_If something happened to it …_

'_Of course it isn't James,' Lily said and the expression on her face clearly told Severus that he must be a touch daft for even suggesting such a thing. Gently, she placed the picture in Severus's hands._

_He almost weeped._

_Lily inched closer, so that she could continue to look at the drawing now in his hands. 'Is that him?' she whispered. 'Is that your soulmate, Severus?'_

_After Sirius Black had flooded the halls of Hogwarts with copies of his damning love letter to James, every single person (dead or alive) at their school knew about Severus's conviction to have a soulmate. It had been on top of every gossip list for a couple of weeks and then, luckily, most students had lost interest. The idea of Severus Snape loving and being loved was just too out of this world for most of them, apparently._

_And that was just as well for Severus._

_Even though he knew that Lily was probably the only person at Hogwarts who believed that even an unsightly and unfriendly boy like him could have a soulmate – yes, even _deserved_ to have one – Severus had forbidden her to ever talk to him about this subject. And, surprisingly, she never had – until now._

_Severus could only nod._

'_It's not James,' he repeated, flushed with embarrassment. 'I know he looks an awful lot like him, but it's not supposed to be him. I swear.'_

'_Severus, I have eyes. I can see the difference,' Lily said matter-of-factly and much to his surprise. Looking over his shoulder, she studied the picture thoughtfully. It was the portrait of a male teenager, about their age, with dark hair that looked every bit as windblown as that of James Potter, and probably withstood every non-magical effort of its owner to tame it. He was wearing round spectacles that looked very much like the pair on James Potter's nose, but that was where the similarities ended. This boy's features were softer than James's and had a much more childlike quality to them; his jaw not quite so chiseled and his smile open and trusting. The boy was wearing a comfortable looking albeit rather large sweater with a hood and a zipper up front, under which the patch of a t-shirt revealed the bold letters **ER'S PE**. There was a curious scar in the middle of his forehead that had the exact shape of a small lightning bolt. But even this prominent scar could not steal from the attention that the boy's eyes demanded. They were sparkling with emotion and there was something so intense about them; it seemed as if the boy's charcoal image alone was able to look right into the heart of his beholder. But there was nothing calculating or judging in his gaze. His eyes possessed warmth that James Potter would maybe never be capable of, Lily Evans realized._

_After what seemed like an hour, she finally managed to tear her own eyes from the picture and looked at the boy next to her._

'_He's so very beautiful, Severus,' she said softly, not quite trusting her own voice. For some reason, she felt like crying now. It was as though the picture of the boy had touched a part of her soul she never even knew existed. Her words, however, were sincere and she hoped that Severus knew this._

_He smiled at her and this time it came out right._

'_He is, isn't he?' he replied, but his smile broke off abruptly when he realized how smug he had sounded. Lily laughed. _

'_Come on, Sev! This boy here is a real sweetheart and if you don't have a right to brag about him, then who does?' she asked, nudging him good-naturedly. 'He's your soulmate, Severus!' _

'_Yeah,' Severus said quietly. _

'_I could swear I have seen him before,' Lily mused. 'He looks so familiar! He's like the name of somebody you've met before but can't remember their name. It's on the tip of your tongue, but you just can't remember – try as you might. If I didn't know that James was an only child, I would think that this boy was his brother. Hang on!' Lily put an excited hand on Severus's shoulder. 'Maybe he's a cousin of some sort?'_

_Her face actually brightened at the idea, but Severus shook his head._

'_I've checked his entire family tree,' he told her and didn't even blush at his own confession. He knew his secret was safe with Lily. 'No living family member between the age of twelve and fifty-two looks remotely like this boy. Except James Potter himself.'_

'_Hmmm,' Lily said, tapping her chin. 'And what about the children under twelve? Maybe you're much older than your soulmate?'_

'_There are none,' Severus informed her. 'So unless he has yet to be born, I highly doubt he is related to James Potter at all.'_

* * *

Priya had returned. 

He could tell by suddenly feeling Harry's presence nearby and he could feel Harry's presence by the way his cramped muscles began to loosen up and his erratic heartbeat returned to a normal pattern. She had been successful in prying Harry away from the Order.

But of course she had.

By the time Priya opened the door to his study, the ache of his battered and sore body had subsided far enough to allow him to get up from his chair without wincing and by the time she reached his desk, he was strong enough again to take the unconscious teenager from her arms and carry him in his own.

'Put your cauldrons aside and allow yourself some rest,' Priya said softly but not without admonition. 'For your sake and his.'

'Of course,' Severus replied and that was about all he could say when he looked down on Harry's pale face and the affection for his young charge threatened to overpower him.

_Never again._

Never again would he put Harry through such an ordeal by depending on anyone outside their little family. His duties for the Order hadn't allowed him to leave Voldemort's side even for a minute during these past few days. And so, under Voldemort's close watch and therefore without any possibility to help neither Harry nor himself as their conditions gradually worsened without the other by their side, he had relied on Remus Lupin to bring Harry to Snape Manor before their separation (now more dangerous than ever) would take its toll on the teenager, so that Harry would be under Priya's care and among the people that were now his family. In theory at least, this should have given Harry back a lot of his strength. If anyone at Number twelve, Grimmauld Place sympathized with his situation it was Lupin, or so Snape had thought. But of course he should have known that the werewolf would not be sympathetic or strong enough to act against the wishes of that _dog_gone Sirius Black!

When he had finally been able to take his leave from the Dark Lord, Severus had been too exhausted to take Harry home himself. Hell, he had barely made it back to Snape Manor on his own. His exhaustion stemmed from various sources, of course, but the main reason appeared to be the separation from Harry. It had come as somewhat of a surprise to Severus to experience how being kept away from his mate was physically affecting him now that Harry was finally sixteen. It was one thing to become completely miserable over the years at the prospect of never finding peace at the side of your Intended, but a complete other to physically note his absence to an extent where you felt literally crippled. No books could have ever prepared him for it. However, he had been able to hide most of his distress in front of the Dark Lord and his minions and those few times his weakness had shown through could easily be attributed to Riddle's repeated administrations of the Cruciatus Curse or other hexes very like it. Yes, the Dark Lord had been in a pretty bad mood these last few days – as he always was when things were not going his way.

And to be fair, things had not been going Voldemort's way for sixteen years now.

Suddenly, Harry began stirring in Severus's arms. The boy regained consciousness but remained fast asleep even though both his arms miraculously found their way around Snape's neck. He briefly nuzzled Severus's shoulder and made a noise like a content cat, before he became still again. Priya smiled at what Severus assumed must have been a suddenly rather stupid expression on his face and then she gently put a hand on his back, pushing him out of the door. Even if he had tried, he couldn't have withstood her. Not that he wanted to, mind. In fact there wasn't a thing in the world right now that seemed more appealing than curling up with Harry on a warm and cozy bed in a dark and quiet room for a while.

And yet he hesitated for a moment out in the hallway, not quite knowing which bedroom to chose – his or Harry's. Now wasn't quite the time for Harry to wake up in his teacher's bed just yet, however, and so Severus aimed for Harry's door instead. Gently, he put his mate down on the bed, sat down next to him and commenced to rid him of shoes and socks. Jeans and t-shirt were next. He could have used magic to undress the boy, of course, but levitating the boy's sleeping form and then hexing off his clothes seemed callous somehow. Still, he was glad that Harry was such a heavy sleeper. If he woke up now, Severus suspected this would make for a very awkward moment for both of them. However, this momentary thought was quickly replaced with alarm when he realized how feverishly hot Harry's skin felt as he undressed the boy.

_Merlin damn you, Lupin! _

A small pop somewhere behind him alerted him of a house-elf's arrival and he turned around to find Miko, the Malfoy's elf, holding out a neatly folded blue and white checkered pajama to him.

'The mistress sends this for her new son,' he eagerly told Severus, who rolled his eyes but didn't have the energy to reprimand the house-elf of this slip of tongue in Harry's presence. And so he merely thanked Miko for the nightwear, which he then began put on Harry, mindful not to wake him.

Of course this boy could sleep through a Cruciuatus Curse.

Once more he was alerted by the temperature of Harry's skin when he slipped the boy's arms into the pajama shirt. This time Harry was icy cold! Severus hurried to complete his task, so that he could finally put his young mate underneath the warm blanket. Afterwards he pulled the window curtains closed and kindled a fire with a flick of his wand, quickly slipped out of his shoes and slid underneath the covers next to Harry. Again, he gathered the Gryffindor in his arms, feeling his petite yet strong body mold perfectly to his own almost instantly. Harry's free arm snaked across Severus's waist and their legs entwined without argument. Severus let out a groan of relief as he felt the remaining tension flow out of his own body. Even the hammering headache that had been his silent companion for the past few days vanished into thin air.

If he died now, he would die a happy man.

He pressed a kiss against Harry's temple and pulled him even closer. Once more Harry made a small sound of content as he, too, tightened his own embrace. Severus closed his heavy eyes with a smile, but only when he was sure that Harry's body had finally settled for a comfortable temperature, he allowed himself to doze off …

* * *

Although he was oblivious to the fact that he had slept away the majority of the day in his Potions master's embrace or even that he had been whisked away from Grimmauld Place at all; when he woke up after dusk, feeling refreshed and cheerful for the first time in days, Harry knew instantly that he had come home. 

A beautiful woman was sitting in a wooden armchair to his right and reading in a heavy book that rested on her lap. For a second Harry contemplated not disturbing her, but then the delight in seeing her again after all these months spilled over in form of an enthusiastic "PRIYA!"

The woman looked up, a smile spreading over her kind Indian features. 'Harry, dear!' she said, putting the book aside and getting up to sit on his bedside. Harry pushed himself into a sitting position and had the very strong suspicion that he would have flung himself into the woman's arms no less than two seconds later, had she not pulled him into a hug first. As it was, he was rather glad that Priya spared him the embarrassment this way.

'Look at you,' Priya said when he pulled away at last. 'Sixteen! Happy Birthday, Harry!'

'SEVERUS IS MY SOULMATE!' he blurted out.

Priya laughed heartily. 'I know, sweetheart! I know,' she said, fondly plucking at Harry's stubborn hair.

'Yeah, I thought you did,' Harry grinned, 'But I love to hear myself saying it.' His smile dimmed a little and he muttered 'At least with you I know you like to hear it, too.'

He paused.

'I mean, you … you do, don't you?'

'Sweetheart, don't be silly!' Priya took hold of one of his hands and squeezed it. 'I _love_ to hear it and I'm very, very happy for both of you.'

'So you don't think I'm too young for Severus?'

'That depends on what you're asking me. You are still not of age after all,' Priya said with a knowing wink. 'But I'm certain that at least Severus will bear this in mind.'

Harry had the decency to blush at the insinuation. He hadn't even been talking about _that_ after all.

_No, honestly._

'Afraid so,' he mumbled then, looking none too pleased. 'He didn't even want to kiss me at first.'

'But he did?' Priya asked with an indefinable mixture of surprise, appreciation and amusement.

'But he did!' Harry confirmed proudly.

He pushed back his covers and swung his legs out of bed. 'Where is he anyway?' he asked, but held up a stopping hand when Priya opened her mouth to reply. His green eyes twinkled with mischief. 'No, do not tell,' he breathed with an air of great importance. 'Severus and I share a soulmate bond, I shall find him on my own.'

'Oh, go on then, soulmate!' Priya called after him as he dramatically swept towards the door. Her laughter followed him out of the room and down the hall until he had reached the closed door that led to his teacher's office.

Harry knocked, but … _no! _… he couldn't wait until the Potions master granted him entrance. Simply couldn't! He wanted to … _no, really!_ … but his body wouldn't let him. His arm and hand developed a will of their own when they reached out and opened the door for him. Apparently, so did his feet, when they carried him forwards so quickly that he all but stumbled into the room.

All too aware of, but at the same time surprisingly undisturbed by the fact that his entrance had displayed major deficits in both grace and nonchalance, Harry finally – with just about all the willpower he possessed - brought his stubborn feet to a halt a few yards in front of the largest of two tables, laden with a couple of impressively bubbling cauldrons and a few vials filled with even more impressively coloured liquids. Severus Snape was standing behind the table with his right hand over one of the cauldrons, swishing his wand back and forth in a rhythmic motion. His smile was amused but warm.

'Why, good evening, Mister Potter.'

'Hullo!' Harry replied. He knew he was grinning like an idiot, but he couldn't help it.

'I see you have decided to join the living again?' Severus asked and Harry's impish grin turned into an expression of severe pain.

'Yeah, about that … could we please _not_ tell Draco that I've fainted?' he whined, fidgeting a little closer to the table.

Severus chuckled.

'Too late,' he smirked. 'Draco has asked me to inform you that your dramatic ways are a disgrace to all men, but of course I told him I would never pass on so harsh an information to an invalid.'

'I think you just did,' Harry pointed out, stepping a little closer still. His willpower was fading, it seemed.

'Oops,' Severus grinned back smugly, 'my mistake.'

Suddenly he put his wand down on the table. Without the magical administration, the potion inside the cauldron promptly stopped stirring and instead began to hiss quite aggressively. The Potions master didn't seem to care, however, but instead studied Harry's face closely. His own was serious.

'Are you feeling better?' he asked.

Harry nodded his head and signalled 'Of course' with a little wave of his hand. He was a bit preoccupied by the now dangerously bubbling liquid.

'Erm,' he said.

'I should have come for you sooner, Harry, but unfortunately I was unable to,' Severus continued. 'I had asked Professor Lupin to bring you home as soon as you showed any signs of malaise, but I suppose I should have known better.'

The potion stopped bubbling. It did so with a loud POP! … and then the cauldron was perfectly empty again.

'Err …,' Harry said, now looking back at Severus and pointing at the cauldron. He stepped closer again – just a little.

_Not too much. Behave._

Severus finally looked at his cauldron, too, and shrugged. 'No wolfsbane potion for Lupin this month, I s'pose.'

Upon seeing Harry's horrified face, he rolled his eyes. 'I was _kidding_! Have I not managed to teach you anything at all? Since when is a wolfsbane potion dark pink, I'm asking you?'

'Oops,' Harry smirked. 'My mistake. What potion was this then?'

'I'm a Potions master! I _experiment_,' Severus replied arcanely.

'Oooh!' Harry breathed, feigning innocent excitement. 'A secret Death Eater potion you can't tell anyone about, I get it!'

'Not _anyone_,' Severus quipped. 'Just not _you_!'

His brows furrowed in mild confusion. 'Is there a problem, Potter?'

Harry had grabbed one of the shelves close to the table with one hand and seemed to be holding on to it for dear life now, squirming uncomfortably.

'The bathroom is right down the hall, as I'm sure you remember,' Severus informed him dryly and with obvious amusement, but there was something so warm and loving in his voice that it prompted Harry to reply: 'You know damn well that I don't have to pee, _Professor_!'

His words were contradicted by an expression once again so pained that Severus burst out laughing.

'Don't laugh at me!' Harry complained. 'I'm _trying_!'

Severus stepped away from the table and slowly walked around it in Harry's direction. Harry's fidgeting grew worse.

'Trying? What are you trying, Mister Potter?' the Slytherin asked, his voice pure velvet.

Goosebumps spread all over Harry's spine.

'Yes, well, to resist that … magnet … that you've … surely … hidden somewhere inside your … robes,' he spluttered indignantly, waving his free hand in the general direction of his mate.

'Magnet?' the other man echoed. Teasing.

'Severus!' Harry whined.

Severus took another step forward … and a second later he had his arms full of Harry Potter.

'Told you there's a magnet,' Harry mumbled.

A small moan escaped his throat, when he felt one of the teacher's hands rake through his hair and, mortified, he pressed his burning face against the other man's chest. He felt Severus smile against his head before the teacher kissed same. Lovingly, the man cradled Harry's head with one hand while holding him in a close embrace with the other.

_'So good,'_ Harry thought, briefly wondering if one could go delirious with happiness. _'I've missed him so much!'_

'I've missed you too, Harry,' Severus replied softly.

Harry leaned back far enough to look up at him. 'You heard that?' he asked, his green eyes almost as round as his glasses. 'And … you really did?'

'Heard it, felt it …,' Severus confirmed with a smile. 'And yes, I really did!'

'Woah!' Harry breathed and neither he nor Severus could tell for sure if he was more impressed by the strength of their bond or by the fact that his own soulmate indeed returned his feelings. He buried his face in Severus's robes again.

'Can we stay like this for a little while?'

'How about we make ourselves a little more comfortable?' Severus asked.

'REALLY?'

'Really,' Severus confirmed, smiling at the disbelief on Harry's face. He led him to a small sofa underneath the open window on the other side of the room and sat down. Awkwardly, Harry climbed on the couch next to him – unsure of how near or far he was supposed to sit. The answer became clear, however, when Severus opened the arm closest to Harry in a clearly welcoming gesture.

'Come here,' he said.

And again it was like an invisible but completely irresistible magnet was pulling Harry towards the other man … and a second later he was back in Severus's arms.

'Honestly,' he mumbled, resting his head against Severus's chest. 'I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm not that clingy usually! I promise!'

'I surely hope you jest, Mister Potter,' Severus replied, 'for I shall be highly offended if this turns out to be the truth.'

He winked at Harry, who now stared up at him with an open-mouthed expression torn between wonder, pride and complete awe. Then, Harry simply laughed and looked away. A blush appeared on his cheeks and he began to fiddle about with one of the many buttons of Severus's black robes. His nervousness vanished, however, when Severus began to stroke his hair and the boy closed his eyes contentedly.

Severus closed his eyes, too, relaxing into the couch and simply enjoying the moment. It was a bit surreal and definitely overwhelming to be sitting here like this. Finally. With Harry. Even though he had held and caressed Future Harry many times before now, this moment felt as new and exciting to him as it did to the boy in his arms.

'It's just that I don't really know myself anymore,' Harry confided. 'I was never cuddly before, you know? Not with my aunt and uncle, not with Sirius and not even with any of my friends. But when I'm with you, I …,' he broke off, still too shy to admit to Severus just how much he longed for his touch. Discreetly, Severus did not give voice to the fact that the only reason Harry didn't like to snuggle with his own relatives was that those dreadful Muggles had avoided touching "that freaky child" at all cost. Deep down inside, Harry knew exactly how cruelly the Dursleys had deprived him of the tender loving care that should be natural in every child's life, and he didn't need Severus to tell him so. They both knew it didn't matter anymore.

Harry was his now.

'Well, but with you I can understand,' Harry continued. 'You're my soulmate and the books say it's only natural that I like being close to you. But earlier with Priya, I needed to hug her so badly, too! I've turned sixteen and now I start behaving like a child! Why is that? And Draco! He has already complained that he's not my guinea pig, I'm that bad!' he tried to convince Severus, sounding so scandalized with himself that the other man laughed softly.

'So I've heard,' he said with an amused smile and without interrupting his caress of the dark hair tugged underneath his chin. 'But I think we both know that Draco is not at all unhappy with being your guinea pig.'

'Yeah, I know,' Harry snickered. 'He loves me.'

'Yes, Harry, he does!' Severus said seriously. 'And that is exactly why you feel the way you do not only around me, but around Draco and Priya, too. We're family now. _Your_ family. You know you're being loved … and I daresay you love us right back, hm?'

Harry laughed.

'I do,' he admitted. 'But back at Grimmauld Place it made my skin crawl whenever someone even came close to touching me. Professor Lupin, Mrs Weasley, even Hermione or Sirius - and these are people I care for very much! And they care about me, too. Right?' he asked almost uncertainly. Anger and hatred welled up inside of Severus when he realized just how much damage those blasted Dursleys had done to his young mate's self-esteem. Maybe that was why he didn't find it too hard to admit the following:

'They do, Harry. They love you very much.'

'Then why did I feel so horrible towards them?' Harry wanted to know.

'Because they kept you away from me, I suppose.'

'But I knew you weren't even here! You didn't have time to be with me, even if I had come back earlier!'

'Yes, but you would have been _home_,' Severus explained. 'Of course it wouldn't have been as sufficient as this,' his embrace tightened demonstratively, 'but it would have made a difference already, I'm sure. You would have never gotten as sick here, simply because you'd have been around people-'

'Who love _you_, too?' Harry continued for him and Severus nodded.

'Oh boy!' Harry deadpanned. 'You'd better send warning to Lucius! I'm going to go all touchy-feely on him too, next time I see him, I just know it!'

'But of course you are,' Severus joked back. 'You have always wanted to give the poor man a heart attack and this would just be the way!'

Harry chuckled at the sudden mental image of a screaming, mad-eyed Lucius Malfoy running off into the horizon simply because he had requested a hug from the Death Eater.

Deciding that this was probably a good opportunity to prepare Harry for the upcoming events in his life without ruining Draco's "ultra-special surprise", Severus carefully added: 'The Malfoys are my chosen family, Harry, and I'm sure that in time you will come to regard them as such yourself. Already, you are much closer to Draco than you have ever been to Miss Granger or any of the Weasleys. I don't mean to say that this is due to our soulmate bond, but I'd say that knowing how close he was to me helped you accepting him around you.'

Harry pulled up his legs and rested his feet on the couch next to him, snuggling closer to Severus. 'Funny, and I thought it was the fact that I'd suspected he was as homeless as I was when I first met him here,' he said dryly.

'Yes, it's just like me to run a holiday home for homeless students, isn't it?' Severus mused.

'Hmm,' Harry agreed, grinning.

'But eventually you found out that Draco wasn't at all homeless but came from a very loving family,' Severus continued, swiftly if not subtly returning their conversation to the Malfoys, 'and correct me if I'm wrong, but I remember you being perfectly agreeable with Draco's parents yourself lately. Isn't that true?'

Harry shrugged, but hummed in agreement once more.

'And that's because you know they care,' Severus continued. 'About both me _and_ you. Of course, Lucius Malfoy might be hard-pressed to admit it, but he would never allow for any harm to be done to you, Harry. The reason you feel so misplaced at Grimmauld Place and with time even became aggressive towards the people you cared about is because they, unlike the Malfoys, object to our relationship. You began to view them as a threat. And when your condition grew worse-'

'I couldn't even stand to be touched by the ones who were supportive, simply because they weren't you?' Harry offered. He too, after all, had done his homework.

'What is the world coming to?' Severus exclaimed. 'Harry Potter has not only read information written in a book but also kept it in that little brain of his! Next, there will be no use for teachers in this world anymore!'

'I wish!' Harry said. A second later, he laughed. 'No, you wish!' he corrected himself, poking Severus in the chest, before leaning back against same. Severus ruffled his hair appreciatively and they both fell quiet, simply enjoying their time together … until Draco Malfoy came bursting into the room.

'SCARFACE!' he called out happily.

The blonde Slytherin grinned broadly at the sight of the two of them lounging on the couch, before his eyes became wide. 'Oh, I'm sorry,' he gasped, sounding impossibly insincere even for a Malfoy, 'I really hope I didn't interrupt something!'

'Would you leave us alone if I said you did?' Severus asked.

'No?' Draco offered brightly and Harry giggled, but he didn't move a muscle to leave his mate's embrace and greet his friend properly. Not without pride he noted that Severus apparently felt the same way. The teacher hadn't moved an inch since Draco's arrival and was still cradling Harry's head like it was the most precious thing in the world.

Draco positioned himself in front of them now, crossing his arms and looking down his nose. 'Potter, you and I really need to talk about the whole fainting thing. You need to cut back on the drama if you're to marry my godfather one day,' he smirked. 'Otherwise people will think you're the girl in the relationship.'

Harry blushed so violently that he was certain Severus could feel his embarrassment burning right through the patch of robes Harry's face was resting on, but the older man made no complaints and merely continued to rake his hands through Harry's unruly tresses.

'Do you have an actual reason for forcing your presence onto us, Junior?' he grumbled.

'I do, Professor Snape,' Draco nodded importantly, drawing himself up to full height. 'I still owe Potter a birthday present. You, Priya, midget … you're all expected for dinner at Malfoy Manor. Eight o' clock sharp.'

'Yes, sir!' Severus replied, mocking a yawn. Harry snickered, but when he saw Draco's eyes move towards the ceiling in a _very_ exasperated manner he thought it wise to stop.

'Do I need to wear something nice?' he quickly asked the first thing that came to his mind (he _was_ going to wine and dine with the Malfoys after all) before Draco would start whining about how awful people in love could be.

Draco smirked at this very random question.

'No, Potter, pj's are perfectly okay,' he quipped, looking down at Harry who followed his example and only then consciously realized that he was indeed wearing pajamas. He knew for a fact that he had already been dressed in jeans and a shirt when fainting at the Orders' Headquarters this morning. So who had put these on him?

_Oh boy._

Harry chose not to question why either Slytherin in the room felt the urge to chuckle all of a sudden.

* * *

Draco wiped the corners of his mouth and then put the napkin down on his empty plate. 

'Hmmm, that was nice!' he said, a little too sincerely Harry thought.

Their meal _had_ been nice, but he had been rather looking forward to the exchange of more cooking jibes between Draco and his mother. However, Draco appeared too distracted to taunt anyone at the moment. Even his occasional orphan cracks thrown into Harry and Narcissa's animated conversation about Charles Dickens (Harry had just finished _Dombey and Son_ from the collection Narcissa had given him for Christmas) seemed only half-hearted. But it was probably the fact that he even passed up all opportunities to tease Harry about his height that truly made Harry worry about the Slytherin's wellbeing. What was he so nervous about? Surely it couldn't be the present he was planning to give Harry later on?

When everybody had finished their meal, they got up to retire into the living room. Suddenly, Harry felt a hand on the small of his back and was surprised to find Lucius Malfoy walking next to him. And although the man's presence had stopped giving him a start by now, he could not help feeling a little apprehensive when the Death Eater asked him:

'Harry, would you care to join me for a little walk outside?'

Automatically Harry's eyes sought out Severus, who did not look in the least surprised by Lucius's request but instead nodded encouragingly. Draco's behaviour on the other hand didn't do anything to better Harry's own apprehension. Not only had the Slytherin blanched significantly, but he was also gnawing at his bottom lip in such a blatantly unconcealed display of nervousness that Harry had never before seen on him. Still, curiosity got the better of him and intrigued, he followed Draco's father to the front door. When passing the others on their way outside, he _just_ couldn't resist tackling his Potions master in the smallest of half hugs.

'That magnet again,' he grinned and happily accepted the brief, affectionate headlock he received in return.

Draco's father led the way past a couple of beautifully trimmed rose bushes in the direction of the lake that divided the Malfoy's estate from that of Severus. He didn't speak and Harry (who suspected that he might appear more suave serenading Professor Umbridge than starting small talk with Lucius Malfoy) didn't talk either. What witty, little subject could he bring up after all?

_Voldemort's mood swings?_

After a while they came upon a bench and Harry followed Lucius's polite invitation to sit down.

'You must be wondering why I asked you to accompany me, I'm sure,' Lucius said at last and Harry nodded.

'A bit,' he admitted before mirroring the Slytherin's crooked grin with one of his own.

'You have no idea?' Lucius asked, sounding almost sceptical.

Harry pondered this for a moment. Then, he shrugged.

'If Voldemort comes jumping from behind _that_ tree in about two seconds,' he pointed at the nearest Blackthorn, 'then I do.'

Lucius's laughter was deep and rich … and not at all an unpleasant sound.

'Well, you don't seem to be overly concerned.'

'Severus trusts you,' Harry replied simply.

'And you, Harry Potter, do you trust me too?'

Harry regarded the man next to him for a few moments. 'I'm not quite sure yet,' he said at last, choosing his words carefully. 'I might actually have more trust in the knowledge that _your_ best friend is my soulmate and _my_ best friend is your son and that this should be reason enough for you not to Avada Kedavra me.'

Now it was Lucius who pondered his words for a little while.

'Fair enough,' he nodded eventually. 'But do you reckon that this could also be reason enough for you to accept my wife and me as your guardians?'

'Come again?'

'You finally need proper guardians, Harry! Those hideous Muggles can hardly be called either and forgive me for saying so, but the same goes for your godfather.'

'Wait!' Harry interrupted him, too befuddled to be angry about this side-swipe against Sirius. 'Are you saying that you want to adopt me or something?'

'Yes.'

Harry goggled. Then, he began to laugh tentatively … but much to his surprise Lucius Malfoy did not join in.

'No joke?' Harry asked wide-eyed.

Lucius shook his head.

'But I'm sixteen now, I don't need guardians anymore. I can take care of myself.'

'Really?' Lucius asked sceptically. 'Is that why you insisted on returning to Snape Manor before you could possibly pass out?'

'I didn't know I would,' Harry protested, but he knew that Lucius Malfoy had a bit of a point.

'It won't happen again! Surely Severus will allow me to stay with him now?' he suggested and didn't like the smirk that this hope prompted on Lucius's face at all. Nor did he like what the man had to say next.

Maybe because he knew that every word was true.

'I'm certain he would,' Lucius shrugged nonchalantly, 'but as you probably have noticed by now, Severus Snape's wishes – or yours for that matter – have little to no authority in the world of Albus Dumbledore and his nifty little Order. The problem is that even though you and Severus are soulmates, you have no legal claim on each other as long as you aren't married. Besides, you should not forget that Severus is still your teacher and you are not of age. Even if you were allowed to fully move in with him tomorrow, it will still be a while until you can live together as lovers,' – Harry blushed – 'and I dare say you don't want him to come to regard you as his surrogate son until then, do you?'

'No! No, of course not,' Harry stuttered, his face a flame of embarrassment. 'But I don't understand … Did Severus ask you to do this? How could you possibly be my guardian, you don't even like me!'

'I never said that,' Lucius replied earnestly. 'You and I had our differences, that's for sure, but believe me that I would not invite you into this family if I didn't think you worthy of it.'

'But why now? Next year I'm seventeen and I'll be able to leave the Dursleys for good! I've lived with them all my life and nobody ever thought I needed 'proper guardians'! Why now? Why bother?'

Lucius sneered.

'Nobody ever thought to take you away from those dreadful Muggles because there are people like Albus Dumbledore who claim they know what's best for you, Harry! All those ignorant fools who think they only have your best interest at heart and let you faint right underneath their homophobic noses, simply because they are too ignorant to believe that you're meant to be with a man like Severus,' he spat and for the first time the man's face truly revealed his emotions. 'But let me tell you one thing, Harry, none of these people ever act on legal ground when they tell you what to do or what not do and where to live or not to live; not under our law and not under Muggle law! But with my wife and me as your guardians, you would not have to depend on those people any longer; be it that uptight Order of the Phoenix or your dreadful Muggle relatives,' he continued. 'You would not have to obey them any longer and would be free to walk away from either of them whenever you wanted and they would have absolutely no right to hold you back.'

'I'd have to obey _you_,' Harry pointed out.

'Be still my beating heart!' Lucius gasped, grinning as though Harry had just given him the idea of his life. 'But as tempting as it is for me to boss you around the house, rest assured that you'd have to obey no different rules than the majority of sixteen year old teenagers in this world should you chose to become a member of this family.'

'Family,' Harry echoed faintly. 'That is Draco's super-special present, isn't it? He wants to give me a new family. Right?'

Lucius nodded.

'That's right. Happy Birthday, Harry.'

_**To be continued …**_


	37. Letters From The Past

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**Author's Note:  
**  
Harry Potter belongs entirely to the one and only J. K. Rowling, who I want to thank from the bottom of my heart for the wonderful finale she has given Harry … and us all. And for portraying my three favorite Malfoys as the loving family that I've always known them to be.  
Oops! Did this constitute as a spoiler?! ;-)

This chapter is for everyone who has signed up for the story alerts of ITWFY.  
Over a thousand people now! You blow me away. Thank you!

* * *

Chapter 37  
"**Letters From The Past"**

Overwhelmed.

One should think that this was a state of mind Harry had come to be rather familiar with ever since Hagrid had knocked in the door of that miserable little shack in that stormy night of Harry's eleventh birthday. And yet. Being told he was a wizard, flying on a broomstick, facing vicious dragons, fighting evil with a wand … none of that could have prepared Harry for this.

Lucius Malfoy wanted to adopt him.

Eventually, he realized that the man next to him was still awaiting some kind of reply from him and so he stammered: 'Er, thank you! But … I don't … this is quite a surprise and I … I don't know what to say,' he confessed at last. 'You want to adopt me.'

He had to repeat it in order to believe it, but even that didn't help.

'All you need to do is sign the papers,' Lucius nodded. 'They're ready and waiting inside.'

'The Dursleys would be pleased,' Harry said blithely although his smile got lost along the way. 'Lucius, would you mind if … could I please have some time to think about it?'

'But of course,' Lucius replied politely and got up from the bench. For one bewildering moment Harry thought the man had sounded almost disappointed, but as usual Lucius's face gave no sign of emotion.

'I realize this must be a little overwhelming,' he said instead ('No kidding,' Harry thought), 'so by all means, take your time to think this through. However, I would appreciate your reply before school begins again.'

'Why?' Harry asked as they began to amble back towards the house.

'When you return to Hogwarts, you'll be back under Dumbledore's supervision. I'd like to have the legal authority to remove you from same should it be deemed necessary.'

'Deemed necessary? By whom?'

'By you,' Lucius replied simply, but when he saw the confusion on Harry's face, he elaborated: 'Severus wants to ensure that the Headmaster can make no more decisions over your head. Merlin knows he's been doing that for long enough.'

'What does that mean?' Harry frowned. 'Why do you talk about Professor Dumbledore like he's some kind of villain? He's been nothing but nice to me in the past. I like him!'

The trademark Malfoy sneer appeared on Lucius's face.

'Oh yes, he's nothing but a jolly old man with a sweet tooth, isn't he? And he only wants what's best for you, _that_ we all know!' he drawled before his voice became harsh, almost a snarl. 'For one, he's the one responsible for placing you with the Dursleys, Harry, and not only that. He let you stay under their care even though he knew they were hiding you in a _cupboard_!'

Harry opened his mouth to protest but in that very moment an image appeared in front of his inner eye. It was a letter. A letter addressed to:

_Mr H. Potter  
__The Cupboard under the Stairs  
__4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
__Surrey_

Yes, Dumbledore _had_ known about the cupboard.

Back then Harry had never thought twice about the address on the letter - but then he had learned to recognize the error of being forced to grow up in such a place only much later. Funnily enough, it had been Draco who truly made him realize how utterly loveless and pathetic his childhood had been. The Slytherin's sheer incredulity and outrage at some of the memories he had seen in Harry's mind (even the ones Harry thought had been kind of nice, thank you very much) during their own private Occlumency lessons had at first been amusing, then embarrassing and then … downright upsetting. Why had no adult else ever protested the way the Dursleys had treated him back then?

Why hadn't Severus?

Deep down inside, Harry now realized, he had always suspected that if Dumbledore _had_ known about the cupboard without ever even crossing the Dursleys' doorstep (at least Harry assumed he never had), the old wizard had known about other things, too.

About all the times he had been sent to bed without dinner, maybe.  
Or about how Uncle Vernon had shaved his head once.  
How Aunt Petunia had liked to use her wooden spoon to 'teach him manners'.  
How he had worked his arse off all year for that stupid red bike only to see it given to Dudley in the end.  
How Marge had always enjoyed chasing her nasty, little bulldog Ripper after him.  
How …

Lucius's hand on his shoulder brought Harry back to the here and now and, dimly realizing that the other man had said something, he briefly shook his head to shake off the past.

'I beg your pardon?'

'May I ask the reason why you hesitate to accept my offer?' Lucius repeated.

'I …' Harry stopped. What _was_ the reason?

'Is it me?' Lucius asked.

'No,' Harry said after a moment and the realization came as much to a surprise to himself as it did to Lucius, it seemed. 'I don't know. I think it's because I got so used to the idea of taking care of my own self after moving out from the Dursleys next year; standing on my own feet. I … I don't blame them, you know? I was dropped off on their doorstep before they could ever even say whether or not they wanted to take care of one more child; a _freak_ child from a world they wanted nothing to with at that. But _still_ they took me in and gave me a home! It may not have been a very nice home, but it _was_ a home and … I …'

'Yes?' Lucius prompted.

'I don't want to be dropped off on _your_ doorstep now,' Harry continued quietly. 'I know that the only reason you're doing this is because Severus asked you to and I appreciate that, honestly I do … very much … but I don't want to be a …'

He swallowed hard and Lucius continued the sentence for him. 'A burden anymore?'

Harry couldn't help but nod when he noted the lack of sarcasm in the other man's question.

'Ye noble, foolish Gryffindors!' Lucius exclaimed - and here the sarcasm was back, full blown. Harry smiled and Lucius did too, although the Slytherin's smirk was a lot more devious.

'Why, Mister Potter, if you can still honestly believe I can be talked into being the parent of _yet another_ obnoxious teenage boy out of the pure goodness of my heart and against my will, then I have clearly done something wrong.'

Amused, Harry shook his head. 'Don't worry, Lucius, I'll forever believe you're a nasty, old Death Eater!'

'Old?!' Lucius enquired, raising a solitary eyebrow.

'Sorry,' Harry said, trying to look bashful, although he couldn't quite hide a smile. Then again, neither did Lucius.

'I should talk to my godfather about this first,' Harry reasoned after a moment of thought.

'Who will give you his blessings in a heartbeat, I'm sure,' Lucius answered dryly and Harry's own heart sank at the prospect of how Sirius would react. How _everyone_ of his friends would react if he told them that he considered being adopted by Lucius Malfoy. Ron would accuse him of being confunded again. Hermione and the rest of the Weasleys would probably think he'd simply gone off his rocker.

_Had_ he gone off his rocker?

They continued to walk up the rest of the garden path in silence until they rounded the last corner of the large manor and began to approach its forefront.

'Now will you please look at this pathetic crowd!' Lucius suddenly sighed and as Harry looked up, he saw how - one by one - Draco, Narcissa, Severus, Priya, and even Yulub and Miko came filing out of the house. They all remained standing on top of the stairs, however, instead of coming down the stairs to meet them halfway down the path and instead stared at them anxiously. It was the effigy of eager expectation and it was in that moment that Harry had an epiphany.

_I am going to sign these papers._

He put a hand on Lucius's arm and they both stopped. 'Draco will throw a terrible fit when he hears that I haven't agreed to the adoption yet, won't he?' Harry asked in a low voice and with a sideways nod towards the waiting party.

'He'll bash you,' Lucius offered helpfully.

'Hmm,' Harry nodded thoughtfully as if this was definitely an argument that could sway him.

'You don't happen to have any bulldogs, do you? I hate bulldogs.'

'Drowned them all in the lake.'

'And is your cupboard bigger than the Dursleys'?'

'A little.'

Simultaneously, Harry and Lucius lost hold of their deadpan expressions and both their faces broke into a conspirational grin.

'Where do I sign?' Harry asked.

* * *

A cupboard this room was not. 

For what he suspected was the fiftieth time since going to bed half an hour ago, Harry had sat back up again, clicked on the little lamp on the table next to his bed and now looked around the room in complete disbelief once more.

_His_ room.

He had a room now. A real, beautiful and cozy bedroom that had neither iron bars in front of the window to keep him from flying away nor a catflap in the door to pass him his food. How had this happened? How was it possible that he had gone from "malnourished, bullied child in a cupboard" to "a wizard" to "Severus Snape's soulmate" to … a _Malfoy_? And all in the course of only five years!

It knocked suddenly and in response to Harry's invitation, Narcissa Malfoy entered the room.

'I saw your lights still on and only wanted to make sure that everything's okay,' she told Harry with a warm but slightly worried smile as she closed the door behind her. 'Do you need anything, dear?'

'Oh! No, no, I'm fine!' he hurried to assure the delicate blonde woman. Then he admitted: 'It's just that I have to keep looking around in order to try and believe what has happened today; not that it's helping. I don't think I'll be sleeping much tonight, I'm too excited.'

At that, Narcissa's smile widened. 'May I?' she then asked with a small gesture towards Harry.

'Please,' Harry nodded and scooted over, so Mrs. Malfoy could sit down at the side of his bed.

'I suppose nobody in this house is going to find much sleep tonight,' she told Harry, 'but we're extremely happy to have you here, Harry, and I hope that you will feel at home here soon.'

'I will,' Harry nodded and as he said this, he realized he wasn't just trying to be polite. His best friend was now officially his brother, today marked the day he had begun trading jokes with none other than Lucius Malfoy and there was no denying that he had long developed a distinct fondness of Draco's beautiful mother. Adding to this was the fact that – apparently - he only had to step inside the little fireplace that adorned his beautiful bedroom and he would be back at Snape Manor in a heartbeat, a fact that technically placed him in closer proximity to Severus Snape than they had ever been at Hogwarts. Yes, Harry guessed there was a good enough chance that he would come to regard this house as his home in no time at all.

'I'm glad,' Narcissa replied before reaching out and briefly caressing Harry's right cheek with the back of her hand. Harry smiled back a little awkwardly before clearing his throat.

'Narcissa, is it okay if I go and speak to my godfather tomorrow?' he asked. 'I feel a bit guilty for having signed the adoption papers without talking to him first …'

Draco's mum nodded. 'But of course. I will arrange with Severus to come over tomorrow morning and bring you. Sirius won't like this, Harry,' she added, looking down on her hands. 'I'm not exactly his favorite cousin.'

Her words gave Harry a momentary pause. Cousins! He had completely forgotten that Sirius and the Malfoys were related at all!

'He won't make me change my mind,' he told Narcissa. Determined.

The blonde woman looked up and Harry was glad to see the smile back on her face. 'Thank you, Harry,' she said.

'Thank _you_,' replied Harry, 'for everything you and Lucius are doing for me.'

Narcissa laughed softly. 'Well, we haven't done much at all yet, have we?'

'You've given me the most beautiful room in the house for one thing,' Harry answered. 'And we're talking about a loooot of rooms here,' he added comically and Narcissa laughed again, a tinkling, delightful sound that Harry was beginning to fall utterly in love with. He guessed that there was many a man in this word, who would gladly make a fool of himself only to make Narcissa Malfoy laugh.

_Heh! No wonder Severus, Draco and Lucius can all be outrageously funny if they choose to do so._

There was another knock on Harry's door suddenly, but this time it opened before Harry could say anything and Draco came strolling in, dressed in night-blue silk pyjamas and holding a little box in his hand.

'Mum!' he said admonishingly when he saw his mother sitting on Harry's bed. 'You should really save the motherly good night routine for later. Give it another week or two! Potter's been an orphan up until four hours ago, you're probably scaring him senseless! Be too nice to them too soon and it'll only mess with their heads.'

'Is that so?' Narcissa laughed (and Harry considered his earlier assumption confirmed). 'Have I not taught you any manners? You wait until you're asked in before you enter an occupied room.'

'Not with your own brother you don't,' Draco shrugged and a rush of happiness surged through Harry's insides.

_Brothers._

'Secondly,' Narcissa continued, 'what makes you an expert on orphans anyway, you spoiled boy?' Turning back to Harry, she patted his hand and asked: 'I did not scare you, did I, Harry?'

'Nothing that will give me nightmares,' Harry promised her. 'But actually I'd really like to hear an answer to your first question, too.' He looked at Draco expectantly. 'What _makes_ you an expert on orphans, Draco?'

'Charles Dickens,' Draco shrugged again, as though the question was a real no-brainer. He was just in the process making himself comfortable on the foot end of Harry's bed, when it knocked again. Draco chuckled.

'Come in, father!' he called out. 'The more the merrier.'

He winked at Harry and then the door opened to let in a somewhat piqued-looking Lucius Malfoy. He clearly hadn't expected anyone other than Harry in this room at this time of night. Somehow Harry had the feeling that Lucius had knocked on his door for the exact same reason that his wife had earlier and could only guess that this act of concern had cost the man enough effort as it was. But Lucius handled the additional witnesses with grace. And a joke.

'Rehearsing an uprising already?' the Death Eater asked Harry. 'A gathering of more than two people means revolt where I come from.'

'Yes, but then you always keep forgetting that this is not the middle ages anymore,' Draco piped up and Lucius turned to look at his son.

'Why am I not surprised to find _you _here?' he drawled.

'Why, I'm only making sure you're not starting to terrify my brand new ex-orphaned brother with your parenting antics already today,' Draco repeated his earlier theory. 'He's not used to having a family, we have to take it slow with him.'

Lucius hummed. 'So you reckon I should not tell him good night for a little while?' he asked Draco interestedly and Harry smiled, beginning to thoroughly enjoy himself. If this was what family life was like, he could well get used to it.

Draco nodded wisely. 'At least for another week or two.'

'Can I ask him if he's alright, then?' Lucius wondered.

'No!' Draco breathed as though the mere idea was outrageous. 'Not until the beginning of next year!'

Harry giggled.

'Hm,' Lucius said again. 'But can I ask him if he needs anything? That's only good manners.'

'You _could_ if Harry was just any other guest,' Draco reasoned importantly. 'But now that you've adopted Harry, you would only scare him with such a question.' Suddenly his professional mask slipped and he snorted with laughter. 'Merlin's Beard, you would terrify us _all_!'

'You might want to be careful, son,' Lucius warned, waggling an index finger in front of Draco's nose, 'for as long as I'm still in the position to change my will.'

Narcissa rolled her eyes at the exchange and she and Harry shared a smile before she got up from his bed.

'Good night, Harry!' she said warmly and then she bent down and pressed a light kiss on Harry's head. 'We'll talk further in the morning.'

'MOTHER!' Draco gasped, getting up from Harry's bed as well. 'Kissing's not until another five years or so!'

Lucius Malfoy put a hand on his wife's shoulder and ushered her towards the door. 'Come on now, Narcissa,' he said surprisingly gently, 'Draco's quite right, we shouldn't scare Mr. Potter any further. For now,' he added as an afterthought.

'Yes, now that it's _you_ who has to pay for his shrink,' Draco commented and Narcissa shook her head in mock exasperation.

'Have we raised this boy?' she asked her husband.

'I'm afraid so,' Lucius answered glumly. 'But don't despair, my love, because now there's another boy for us to try and do it better.'

He winked at Harry who merely grinned back.

'Oh, ha ha ha! That's very funny!' Draco called after them as he closed the door behind his parents. Then he turned back towards Harry and threw him the box he had been holding in his hands all along. 'Here, for you.'

'Ah!' Harry said. 'I was wondering when you would finally give me your ultra-cool-and-super-special present. I mean, a family is all good and well and all, but I really was hoping for something a little more special.'

Draco's jaw dropped momentarily. 'The ink on those adoption papers is not even dry yet and already you're being sarcastic?' he asked, his voice full of mock wonder. 'Awww, you're being a real Malfoy!'

His awe didn't last long, however, and he made sure to hit Harry over the head a lot harder than necessary as he sat down next to him. 'That was not witty, though!' he complained. 'And now open already!'

'Alright, alright!' Harry laughed, first shaking and then opening the box in his lap.

'Pink?' he asked skeptically, pulling out the piece of fabric that was inside.

'What, are you not man enough to wear that color?' Draco smirked. 'I saw that shirt in a Muggle store the other day and I thought it was perfect for you. Turn it around!'

Harry obliged and only then he saw that the writing on the pink t-shirts's front side. He stared at it for a moment and then he threw back his head and laughed.

'I _so_ can't wear that!' he gasped in between giggles. Draco smirked.

'You _so_ will,' he said.

* * *

Even if he had been deaf to the laughter carrying down the hallway, his fine-tuned Legilimens senses allowed Severus to pick up the contentment and delight that pulsated through the entire house the next morning. 

Amused and unnoticed, he stepped into the parlor to find his young mate standing in the midst of a vast pile of clothes, surrounded by each of the three Malfoys and the two house-elves Miko and Yulub. With a series of smart flicks of her wand that suggested years of experience, Narcissa Malfoy directed various items of clothing on to Harry's slim form, exchanging others, and occasionally made small adjustments to their size, form or even color. The ensuing result was either greeted with applause by Draco and the house-elves (and sometimes even a thumbs-up by Lucius, who was sitting on the one patch of sofa that was clothes-free, and reading the Daily Prophet) or laughter and a teasing joke by the former.

Harry himself, it seemed, was determined to endure the whole procedure with as much dignity as possible, although Severus strongly suspected that he was just silently praying for Narcissa to not accidentally hex his clothes all _off_ instead of on. However, it was plain for Severus to see – and feel – that his soulmate was enjoying himself quite a bit.

Clearly, Narcissa's enthusiasm for donning The Boy Who Was Now A Malfoy in new correctly-sized and hole-free attire had rubbed off on the teen and it wasn't entirely without interest that Harry glanced himself in the mirror. And even when he didn't say so, Narcissa would intuitively notice whenever a particular outfit met his approval and the respective items would then land on what Severus rightfully assumed to be the "For keeps" pile.

When Harry – now dressed in tan trousers and a black hooded sweater (an item of clothing Severus had noticed Harry was generally quite partial to) - spotted Severus standing in the doorframe, his smile brightened.

'Good morning, Professor!' he called out; the last word colored with the sweetest tinge of affection that Severus half-hoped would never leave this title again even though he knew it had to by the time they returned to Hogwarts.

'Harry,' Severus inclined his head with a smile. He then nodded his greeting at the rest of the small crown before turning back to the Gryffindor.

'I see you are considering a modeling career over that of an Auror?'

Harry – now clad in slim denim jeans and a casual white dress shirt with navy pinstripes - blushed only slightly. 'You think I should?' he asked, grinning. Severus, who was now experiencing heavy difficulties in tearing his eyes off his young mate, chose to evade the question. Pleased to see both the jeans and the shirt landing on the "keeper" pile, he held up a roll of parchment.

'Your booklist has been delivered to Snape Manor this morning,' he said somewhat stiffly, but it was Lucius who took the roll and unrolled it Harry's stead – a gesture so small and casual and yet it caused a whirl of happiness to surge through their invisible connection for reasons that even Severus couldn't quite comprehend.

'They're early this time around,' Harry remarked, beaming at Lucius, who didn't notice, but was now looking at the smaller parchment that had been rolled up inside Hogwarts' usual booklist.

'What's that?' Harry and Draco asked simultaneously, both craning their necks to get a better look. They laughed when Lucius muttered something that sounded a lot like "Separated at birth," but repeated their question nonetheless.

'That, dear boys,' Lucius sighed eventually, when it became clear the 'dear boys' would not let their question go unanswered, 'is a permission form that your mother or I' – another surge of happiness from Harry's side of the bond – 'will have to sign if we're to allow you two rascals to visit-'

'Hogsmeade?' Harry asked.

'The Muggle Queen?' suggested Draco.

'No, but you're quite close,' Lucius nodded at his son. 'Apparently, you and your class mates will be visiting Muggle London beginning next term.'

'Nice!' Draco grinned.

'Aweso-' Harry whooped, but his voice was drowned out by a terrible screeching noise coming from the hallway. Miko and Yulub scrunched up their faces and clutched their big ears with both hands. Harry grabbed his wand which lay on the table in front of him. When he noticed that all three adults were enduring the heart-stopping riot with nothing more than a roll of their eyes and a slightly irritated groan, however, he frowned.

A moment later the answer to Harry's unvoiced question came flying in form of a rather disheveled looking and loudly complaining brown owl, followed by an angrily cawing crow, that was madly pecking and snapping at the much larger bird. Both birds raced towards Draco with such startling speed that Harry instinctively raised both his wand and his free hand in alarm. He opened his mouth to undoubtedly hurl a hex towards the birds, but paused when Severus held up a placating hand of his own. And _just_ when it seemed as if both the crow and the owl would collide with Draco's face in the next second, the crow lunged at the owl one final time and succeeded in snatching away the parchment that the owl had been carrying … and the owl veered off. It made a u-turn and, with one last indignant hoot, flew back out of the room whereas the crow came to halt on Draco's shoulder. Draco, who had merely smiled lazily and never so much as flinched throughout the entire ruckus, held open his hand. The black crow dropped the slightly crumpled roll of parchment into it and cawed again. This time it did not sound aggressive at all. Instead, Severus thought it sounded as victorious as Draco looked smug.

'This must be _my_ booklist,' Draco smirked. 'Well done,' he then praised the bird, rubbing his cheek against its wing. Severus _swore_ the bird now looked equally smug, before it turned its head to nibble gently on his godson's ear.

'What the heck?' Harry asked loudly. He stared at Draco and the bird in the disbelief. "What is that? Morrigan's Crow?"

Draco looked up from the parchment.

'Much better,' he grinned. Then he noticed the wand that Harry was still clutching in his hand. 'You can put that away now. Or do you want to hurt an innocent pet?'

'Pet?' Harry repeated incredulously, pocketing his wand. '_Innocent?_'

Everyone laughed, while Lucius, who Severus knew had been watching Harry closely and with great interest during the apparent bird attack, resumed browsing over the Sixth Years' booklist.

'This, little brother,' Draco meanwhile explained, 'is Stella.'

'Stella,' Harry repeated and Draco nodded.

'Yes. My crow.'

'Your crow,' echoed Harry again. 'Right.'

'Can't all have owls, can we?'

'But I've never seen her at Hogwarts before!' Harry said, unconsciously pulling on the red shirt he was currently wearing. Narcissa tutted and gave his hand a little slap.

'Will you stop doing that?' she scolded with amusement. 'It's not too small, but exactly your size.'

'You wouldn't,' Draco replied to Harry. 'Stella loathes the school. Or rather, she loathes being locked up inside. You might find her up in the Owlery sometimes, but usually she prefers to roam the grounds.' His mouth curled into a slight sneer. 'For reasons that are completely beyond me,' Stella cawed once as if she was going to argue with her owner, 'she's taken quite a liking to that big oaf's hut and his pumpkins.'

'Ah,' Harry said slowly, eying the bird suspiciously.

Suddenly, and only for a second or two, a mental image popped into Severus's mind:

_H__arry and Hermione Granger were standing next to the pumpkin patch front of Hagrid's hut. A hippogriff, tethered to a pole and looking at both teenagers with resigned eyes, was lying close to them. It didn't budge, even though both teenagers were begging beseechingly as Harry fumbled to get the chain off the pole; a task made much harder by a small crow that was angrily pecking at his hand. Harry hissed an obscenity at the crow, which only resulted in a bloody finger. Harry swore again …_

Laughing to himself, Severus stepped up to his young mate and put a hand on his shoulder. 'Stella can be a rather charming bird once you get to know her better,' he lied unconvincingly.

_Oh__, she's charming, alright … to nobody else but Draco. _

'I thought no outside owls could get close to the Manor,' Harry (clearly not believing a word) asked Lucius when he remembered how Hermione's post owl had many days tried in vain – until Severus had discovered it - to deliver the invitation to his surprise birthday party to Draco.

Lucius nodded. 'Yes, but on regular delivery days we lessen the enchantments around the estate enough to allow owls in.'

'Yes, but does _she_ know that?' Harry asked skeptically, pointing after Stella, who had took off again after one last affectionate peck at Draco's cheek.

Draco chuckled. 'Sure she does. But that doesn't mean she'll allow any other bird near me.'

'Well, Narcissa,' Severus said, remembering what he had come over for, 'do you think you can spare your new favorite dress man for a moment or two?' To Harry he said: 'The Order has scheduled a meeting in half an hour, so if you want to talk to Sirius before that, we should leave now.'

'Off you go then, we'll finish your new wardrobe later' Narcissa smiled at Harry, whose own face had fallen significantly at the mention of his imminent 'appointment'. She looked at her husband. 'The letter, darling?'

'Ah, yes.' Lucius pulled the envelope out of his breast pocket and handed it to Severus. 'Please show this to Black in case any problems arise.'

As Severus Snape accepted the letter, he noticed that the silver snake ring, which had been missing ever since the night of Harry's sixteenth birthday, was back on the other man's hand. '_He's been back__ here,'_ he thought a little sadly, wishing that he too could have met Harry's future self on this trip into his past. Then, he glanced down at the envelope in his hand.

And froze.

He was only glad that the present day Harry was too distracted by Narcissa, who was handing him a parchment too at the moment, to notice how Severus's face momentarily lost its color as his heart seemed to stop skipping a beat or two. Only one word was written on the envelope.

It was "Sirius" … and the handwriting was that of Lily Evans.

* * *

'_He said he won't be a__ble to sleep tonight, because he's too excited,' Narcissa said to her husband, closing the door to his study behind them with a delighted smile. 'Isn't that just the sweetest thing?'_

_Without waiting for Lucius's reply, she rushed over to the fireplace. 'Harry wants to see Sirius tomorrow morning! I will call Severus, so that he can take him.'_

_Sitting down behind his desk, __Lucius hummed distractedly as Narcissa lit the fireplace and then thrust her head into the magical flames to call their friend. Instead, his attention was focused on a small round object that lay on top of the biggest book pile in front of him on his cluttered desk. It was the ring that he had given the future Harry Potter – the young man who had called him 'dad' so easily - less than a week ago._

_Suddenly, there was a knock at the door._

'_Come in,' Lucius said, putting the ring back on his finger – very glad to have it back at last – and sending a silent Thank You into the future. Then the door opened and Harry Potter's head appeared. 'I'm sorry,' the teenager began sheepishly, but Lucius waved him closer. 'It's perfectly okay. What is it we can do for you, Mister Po-' _

_He stopped._

'_Harry,' he corrected himself._

_Harry smiled. Stepping closer to the desk a little more confident now, he said: 'Well, it's just … I believe these are yours. I wanted to give them to you a long time ago, but then I completely forgot about them until Narcissa mentioned that she and Sirius are cousins tonight, which I had completely forgotten also for some reason and … oh, hi, Narcissa!' he greeted Lucius's wife who had just resurfaced from the fire._

_Astonished, Lucius looked back and forth Harry and the stack of old-looking letters, held together by a crumpled green ribbon, that the boy had just put in front of him. The top envelope had the words "To Narcissa from Lucius" written on it and Lucius didn't have to check to know that all the other envelopes would carry the same dedication._

'_Gracious Merlin!' Narcissa exclaimed. She grabbed the pile of Lucius's love letters and held them close to her heart. 'How did you …? Oh my! Where did you find these, sweetheart?'_

_Harry blushed. 'I don't know if I'm allowed to tell you,' he mumbled, but Narcissa understood._

'_Sirius had them?' she asked kindly. 'Did he give them to you?'_

_Harry blushed some more._

'_Not e__xactly, no. But I was with him when he found the letters. He was going to throw them away and so I nicked them. I didn't read them, though.' he added quickly. 'And I doubt Sirius ever did either, although I don't quite understand how he got them at all.'_

'_I __highly doubt he read them, too,' Narcissa laughed and as she sat down on the armrest of her husband's chair, she explained to Harry how the love letters had ended up at Number twelve, Grimmauld Place. 'You see, Harry, when I was about your age, I lived at your godfather's home for about two years, because I got along a lot better with my aunt than with my parents at that time. Well, I got along a lot better with Sirius at that time, too' she added._

'_Until these started pouring in,' Lucius smirked, pointing at the letters._

'_Wait!' Harry asked, staring at the blonde woman in disbelief. 'You got along well with your aunt? Sirius'__s mother? That horrible woman on the screeching portrait?'_

_Narcissa smiled. 'Some __portraits are best left unpainted,' she nodded, turning around when they heard the fire behind them flaring up again. Moments later, Priya stepped through._

'_Oh! I didn't mean to interrupt,' the Indian woman smiled. 'Hello, Harry dear.'_

_Harry waved at her and then quickly headed back towards the door. 'Anyway, I'll leave you alone now,' he said. 'Sorry for not giving the letters back sooner.'_

'_It doesn't matter, Harry!' Narcissa said warmly. 'I thank you for keeping them safe for us until now. It means a lot to me to have these letters back.'_

'_You're welcome,' replied Harry. 'Good night.'_

'_Good night,' Lucius and his wife answered. 'Good evening, Priya,' Lucius then addressed the beautiful Indian after Harry had left the room. 'How nice of you to drop by.'_

'_I must admit that this isn't entirely a social visit,' Priya replied. 'Severus has told me that Harry intents to speak to his godfather tomorrow morning to tell him about the adoption?'_

'_Yes,' Lucius nodded. 'So?'_

_Priya pulled two letters from the folds of her yellow Sari. 'So I believe the moment has finally come for me to give you these,' she said._

'_Who wrote them?' Narcissa asked. 'And why weren't they given to us directly?'_

'_I believe that's because the writer of these letters knew that the time would not be right for these letters until now.' _

'_Why? Who sent them to you?' Lucius asked rather brusquely, but Priya did not seem to mind the tone._

'_These letters were sent to me by Harry Potter's mother,' she said calmly._

_Lucius mouth fell open and all he could do was to stare at the letter in Priya's hand. It was Narcissa who recuperated first. She took the letter from her friend's hand and frantically ripped open the envelope. A smaller envelope with the word "Sirius" written upon it came tumbling out and fell to the ground, but Narcissa ignored it for the time being. Instead, her eyes flew over the letter in her hand._

_And t__hen Narcissa Malfoy began to weep._

* * *

Harry gulped audibly when the front door of Number twelve, Grimmauld Place closed behind them and even Severus's hand on his shoulders didn't ease his anxiety much. He half-turned towards his mate, his eyes still fixed on the closed kitchen door on the other end of the corridor, and stuttered: 'Y- you don't have to come in there with me, Severus.' 

_Yeah. __Convincing, really convincing._

'Nonsense,' said Severus. 'I promised your parents I would bring you back home in one piece and I will.'

For what Harry thought must be the hundredth time today already, a giddy grin spread across his face (_I have real parents now!), _but then he concentrated on the second part of Severus's sentence and even though he realized it had been meant as a joke, it worried him.

'You reckon he'll be _that_ angry?'

'Nothing he won't get over eventually,' Severus sneered. Then, apparently sensing that this wasn't exactly what Harry wanted or needed to hear, he tightened his grip around the Gryffindor's shoulder. 'I'm right here,' he said … and Harry immediately felt better.

With renewed determination, he pushed open the kitchen door. Without Severus's reassuring presence behind him, Harry was pretty certain he would have turned right around again and fled back to Malfoy Manor. He had been hoping to meet Sirius alone before the Order of the Phoenix would begin their meeting, but already the Black's kitchen was as crowded as King's Cross Station at eight in the morning. About half the Order – Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Remus Lupin, Sirius and Tonks - and Ron, Hermione and Ginny were seated around the long kitchen table. They all looked up as Harry and Severus entered; a smile on most faces.

'Harry!' Hermione and Ginny beamed, getting up to give him a hug.

'Hey mate,' Ron grinned a little awkwardly, clearly made uncomfortable by the presence of their Potions master. Sirius got up as well. He, too, seemed a little nervous, as he pulled Harry into another hug.

'All right, Harry?' He smiled broadly at his godson. 'Missing us already?'

'Er … yes,' Harry nodded. 'But also I'm here because I wanted to talk to you.'

'Well, sit down then,' replied Sirius, motioning towards two free chairs.

'Actually … can we go somewhere private?'

Sirius looked surprised. 'Why, yes, of course. Let's go upstairs, shall we?'

Severus made to leave the room with them, when Harry held him back. 'I need to do this on my own,' he whispered. 'Or he'll flip,' he added almost apologetically, grinning at Severus, who was none too pleased.

'If you must.'

Frowning and apprehensive, he looked after his mate, as Harry and his godfather as they closed the kitchen door behind them. However, it took them less time to return than it did for Severus to poor himself a cup of tea.

'NO! I WILL HAVE NONE OF THIS! ENOUGH IS ENOUGH!' he heard Black yell from the top of his lungs before the door bust open again and the ex-convict came charging back it. Harry followed right behind.

'YOU!' Sirius roared. 'THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!'

His face twisted with anger, he lunged at Severus – but the teacher had his wand drawn already and jabbed it at the other man's throat.

'Watch it, Black,' he spoke calmly. 'Don't think I wouldn't hurt you because of him.'

'Stop it! Both of you!' Harry yelled. 'Sirius, back off!'

'Don't tell me to back off, Harry, you have no right!' spat Sirius.

Severus could tell that these words hurt his mate, but Harry's anger was stronger. 'I have _every_ right since you are attacking my soulmate!' he hissed.

At that, Sirius _did_ back off. 'That's rich,' he sneered. 'I'm not the one with the wand here, am I?' he asked Harry, holding up both his empty hands.

'Oh, don't be such a child!' Harry groaned. 'I've seen you.'

Sirius's face became hard. 'Feeling all high and mighty now too, now that you're a real Malfoy? Already you sound just like them!' He shook his head disgustedly. 'Calling me a child, are you? Is that how your new pure-blooded bitch of a mother talks about me?'

Behind Black two plates fell from the shelf and onto the floor, where they shattered into a hundred pieces.

'Don't call her that!' Harry snarled. 'Narcissa didn't talk bad about you at all. She doesn't talk bad about anyone!'

Sirius laughed a humorless laugh. 'Oh, but of course not!' he said mockingly. 'The lovely Narcissa Malfoy is nothing but a-'

'Be quiet, Black!' Severus interrupted. 'You've wasted enough air as it is.'

'I WILL NOT WATCH HARRY GETTING HIMSELF ADOPTED BY LUCIUS MALFOY!' Sirius erupted again.

Everyone gasped. Everyone looked at Harry.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Severus saw the portrait of Phineas Nigellus move and knew that the wizard had left his painting for the exact same reason it had been placed in the Black's kitchen to begin with.

To fetch Dumbledore.

Finally, he remembered the letter that Lucius had given him earlier. 'Here!' he said, thrusting the envelope into Black's shaking hands. 'Maybe this will shut you up.'

'What is that?' Sirius huffed. 'A letter from Harry's new _parents_?'

'Read.'

Sirius looked blindly at the envelope. He didn't recognize the handwriting on it, but opened it all the same and pulled out the letter that was inside. Seconds later, he sank into the nearest free chair. The letter fell from his limp hand onto the table, but his eyes never left the piece of paper. All other eyes were glued on Sirius now and so almost everyone jumped from shock, when Dumbledore's voice suddenly resounded behind them.

'I hear you have become an official member of the Malfoy family, Harry?'

Harry spun around.

'Yeah, I have,' he said, unable to keep a note of defiance out of his voice. 'The papers are all signed and sealed.'

'Oh Harry!' Hermione exclaimed happily. 'Good for you!'

'What?' she snapped at Ron a second later, although Severus had a feeling her words were more so directed at the poor boy's mother. 'You just don't get it, do you? Harry and Professor Snape are soulmates. Soulmates! That means Professor Snape would have _never_ allowed Harry to agree to the adoption if it meant any danger to his mate. Besides!' – she folded her arms in front of her – 'Draco has proven to be a wonderful friend to Harry and I'm sure his parents are nice people, too, if Harry and Professor Snape trust them this much.'

She looked over at Sirius - who had buried his head in both of his hands now, but had not yet taken his eyes off the letter – and quietly added: 'We should be happy for Harry that he has a real family again instead of arguing with each other.'

'Thank you, Hermione,' Harry said and the two friends smiled at each other until Dumbledore said: 'Yes, thank you, Miss Granger. Unfortunately, Harry is not yet of the right age to make important decisions like this on his own.'

'Well, that's what I've got parents for now,' Harry quipped. Severus couldn't quite hide a smile even though his heart was beating quite wildly in his chest. Miss Granger's belief in him was all good and well, but he didn't know if he truly stood a chance against the powerful Headmaster should it ever come down to it. If Dumbledore simply decided to keep Harry close to him and not let him go back to Malfoy Manor at all, would he be able to protect his mate? Would he be able to keep last night's promise to Narcissa and bring her new son back to her?

'I've signed the papers already anyhow,' Harry repeated stubbornly. 'So there's not much room for discussion, really.'

'But there is, my dear boy,' Albus said calmly. 'Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy have had no right to adopt you as long as your aunt and uncle are still your legal guardians. Also, I'm afraid your signature on those papers means nothing before the law since you're not of age yet.'

Harry smiled. 'I'm afraid _you_ are wrong, Professor Dumbledore. My aunt and uncle are not my legal guardians anymore. They have given me up for adoption … and gladly, too,' he added, but there was no bitterness in his voice.

Dumbledore frowned. 'Surely the Malfoys have forced your relatives into an agreement. But threats, blackmail and dark magic do not-'

Harry's smile vanished.

'I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't accuse my family of such methods without checking the facts beforehand, Professor!' he said quite coldly and Severus couldn't help but wonder that Sirius had gotten one thing right after all. Harry _did_ sound a lot like a Malfoy already.

Not that this was bad thing.

'I'm sure you won't find it very hard to imagine how willingly my relatives exchanged me for a few gold coins,' Harry continued evenly, repeating what Lucius and Narcissa had told him earlier this morning. 'Tell me, why would I ever want to go back to people that _sold_ me first chance they got? Why would I ever want to return to a family that used to pretend that I didn't even exist for … well … until this day? Because of the magic that is supposed to protect me from harm as long as I call the Dursleys' house my home, maybe?'

'I should think this a good enough reason,' replied Dumbledore.

Harry laughed mirthlessly. 'But I have stopped calling that house my home from the moment Severus first removed me from it, Professor.' He reached out and took Severus's hand into his. Severus gave it a tight sqeeze. 'My home is with him now. I don't need the protection of Number four, Privet Drive anymore. I'm protected by my mate and our family.'

'I will not allow you to become the son of a known Death Eater, Harry!' Dumbledore replied, his air of patience gone now. 'I will _not_ allow it! Your parents would never consent to this; your poor mother would turn in her grave.'

Harry's hand grew cold inside Severus's. 'You don't know that!'

'But you think _you_ do?' Dumbledore retorted quite coldly.

'_I_ do,' a broken voice suddenly said. It was Sirius.

He held out the mysterious letter for Dumbledore to take, all the while looking at Harry. Startled, Severus noticed how the gaunt face he had hated for so long now was glistening with tears.

'Let him go, Dumbledore.' said Sirius. 'It was her last wish.'

_**To be continued …**_

* * *

**Adjusters' Note:  
**

Some of you might remember how I once said that the next chapter would be a very big and important one; one that I was dreading to write. Those who do are probably wondering just what was so important about it and was there to dread ;-). Well, chapter 37 turned out to be jinxed. Instead of coming to an end, it only grew longer and longer (and longer and longer and longer) every time I sat down to finish it … and so I _finally_ decided to cut it in half and make two separate chapters of it, so I could _finally_ give you an update after all these many months. This chapter is the first half of it, obviously, the "non-dreaded" half.  
I realize that those among you, who already feel that this story features the Malfoys entirely too much (:grins at Evi:), will probably not be too happy with this chapter, but I felt that Harry deserved some happy time with his new family … before I hurl him down the road that lies ahead.

* * *


	38. Not without him

**Disclaimer:**  
I'm not J.K. Rowling. Go figure! ;-)

**Author's Note:**  
This chapter had to be re-uploaded due to the change of the title.  
Incidentally, this new title is rather stupid (it refers to Harry's irrational fear of having to live without Severus, btw),  
because I just couldn't come up with anything original, but the previous title  
"The Fragility of Time" will be needed for another chapter, which should follow shortly.  
Sorry for any confusion this may have caused.

* * *

Chapter 38  
**"Not without him"**

Dumbledore stared down at the letter in his right hand, which was shaking ever so slightly. 'Impossible,' he muttered. Then he took out his wand and performed a small spell on the paper to confirm that the letter had indeed been written by Lily Potter. 'Impossible,' he repeated when his spell revealed the document to be legitimate.

'Whose letter is this, Severus?' Harry demanded. 'Whose last will? My mother's?'

Severus didn't reply. He felt sick and confused and it took him every last ounce of willpower to not let Harry sense this. He thought he knew _how_ Lily had known when and where her son might need a document that would prompt Sirius Black to let his godson go without further protest, but there was no way that he could tell Harry about his assumption yet, was there? And of course there was always a small chance that he was misinterpreting the situation.

And if he wasn't?

Had Lily known? Had she _known_ what would happen to her and James? But then why was she still dead? If Lily had known about Harry's future – about _her_ future - why had it been enough for her to write a couple of letters instead of changing that future completely? Grief threatened to overpower Severus for a moment, but he forced himself to pull himself together. Assuming that he wasn't misinterpreting Lily's letters, he needed to ensure that her efforts to place Harry in the Malfoys' care would not go to waste. Whether or not he liked the decisions Lily had made fifteen years ago, she had made them all to protect Harry's life. Lily Evans had been his best friend _and_ she had been his soulmate's mother. Severus had no other choice but to accept _her_ choice of death, even though it might well be in his power to change the events of that dreadful night.

'Sev, did my mum _know_?'

To change them right now.

But he let the opportunity pass and did not answer Harry's question. And when Dumbledore began to read Lily's letter out loud, he cast the Muffliato charm to drown out the old man's voice in the ears of everyone around them.

'Don't,' he said to Dumbledore. 'Don't do this, Albus.'

Albus Dumbledore took his eyes off the letter and looked around to see everyone in the room rubbing their ears irritably. Tonks's hair had changed from the usual bright pink into an acid yellow and she glared at Severus will sparkling red eyes.

'What are you afraid of, Severus?' Dumbledore asked almost curiously. 'They can hear what Lily Potter had to say, don't you think?'

'No, I don't think,' replied Severus and he knew that it was only due the many years of drowning out and suppressing his true thoughts and feelings that he managed to keep his voice steady at this moment.

_Oh, Lily. Lily!_

'If Lily had intended for us all to hear what she had to say, she wouldn't have addressed the letter to Sirius only.' He successfully squashed the sudden fit of raging jealousy and continued: 'And if she would have wanted Harry to hear these words, she would have written him a letter, too.'

It was only now that he said Harry's name that Severus realized that he had stepped behind Harry and was holding him close to his chest with both arms now, almost like a shield, clinging to his young mate as though Harry Potter was his last anchor to life. Harry was very still in his arms. He was leaning back against Severus and had put both his hands on the other man's forearms as if trying to send a silent message through the physical connection. Severus knew the boy was straining to hear what was being said as much as everyone else, and yet Harry seemed to understand that this was not the time to be impatient and demand an explanation.

'Don't do this, Albus, I'm begging you. Enough is enough,' Severus continued. 'You finally have to understand that we are not all some chess pieces to be pushed around at your fancy. You may have Harry's best interest at heart, but you have to accept that other people do too. And maybe these other people know better than you.'

'Or maybe they don't,' Albus said quietly, lifting the Muffliato charm with a flick of his wand.

'Or maybe they don't,' Severus agreed, resting one hand on top of Harry's head while the other still held him close. 'Sometimes people make mistakes. And sometimes,' - He thought of Lily Evans who had _still_ given her life to protect her son. Lily, beautiful Lily, who apparently had been even braver than they all could have ever known - 'sometimes the people we care for make decisions that we don't immediately comprehend. And maybe we never will. But sometimes it's not up to us to decide whether or not these decisions are right or wrong. We have to accept them as fact. Lily knew this. I understand now that this was something she put all her faith in. There's no need for you to destroy that faith, Albus. No need.'

'I want to read this letter,' a small voice suddenly said.

Harry freed himself from Severus's embrace and walked over to Dumbledore. 'Give it to me,' he requested, holding out his hand. It was almost as if Albus Dumbledore was acting against his own will when he handed Harry Lily's letter.

'Harry, please,' Severus said. 'Don't read it.'

'Why?' Harry asked, clearly speaking around a lump in his throat. 'Why not? It was my mother's!'

'Yes,' Severus said gently. 'I know. But I'm sure there's a reason why your mother addressed the letter to Sirius and not to you.' Tears welled up in Harry's eyes and Severus hated himself. But before he could say anything else by means of damage control, someone behind them said:

'Yes, there is a reason. It's because Lily Evans always knew that I was the biggest prat of the lot.' Sirius Black wiped his wet eyes so carelessly as if swatting away a fly. 'You can read the letter, Harry,' he said. 'Read it out loud. Your mother would have wanted us all to hear.'

Helplessly Harry looked over to Severus, who finally nodded. He didn't know what possessed him to trust Sirius Black of all people, but hadn't he just been the one preaching about accepting other people's decisions?!

Swallowing his tears down hard, Harry began to read:

'_Dear Padfoot,_

_You have always been a wonderful friend to both James and __I, just like there is no doubt in my mind that you will forever be a wonderful friend and godfather to our only son. But you, Sirius, will know better than anyone else that our best intentions for the people we love do not necessarily result in the best of choices. _

_Therefore, it is my will, __my desire and my order that on the day Harry turns sixteen, my son's own choices and decisions are to be treated as if he were already of age, as long as he acts with the full consent of his soulmate Severus Tobias Snape._

_Further, it is with Severus Tobias that I place the sole responsibility of choosing appropriate guardians for Harry. James and I put all our trust in whomever he chooses and know that those people will be worthy to be proud parents to our beloved son. I'm ask-'_

Harry stopped, finally chocking on his grief. His hand with the letter fell limply to his side and he looked up with eyes that could not see for the tears. 'Se-,' he began and Severus was at his mate's side before Harry could finish saying his name. And for the second time today he wrapped the boy in his arms. But now it was him who provided the support needed to steady his mate; now it was him who acted as the proverbial shield from grief and sorrow.

'Remus, you finish the letter,' Sirius said, his voice thick.

Gently, Remus Lupin took the letter from Harry's hand and continued to read:

'…_worthy to be __proud parents to our beloved son. I'm asking you, Sirius, and Albus Dumbledore and everyone else who cares for my son's wellbeing, to accept his decision like we do – no matter how unlikely a choice these new guardians may appear. If they are good for my son and his mate, they should be good enough for all of us._

_All my love,  
__Lily Potter_

_PS: Apparently it's necessary that I tel__l you to stop being a prat here too, and so, for the last time: Stop being a prat, Sirius Black!'_

It was Dumbledore who spoke first into the long silence that ensued, even though he didn't get much further than 'That's not acceptable,' because that was the moment Sirius chose to bang his flat hand on the table and bellow:

'ENOUGH! You've heard the letter as well as we did, Dumbledore! Lily's instructions are perfectly clear! The only thing not acceptable is that we won't respect her last will, her desire and her ORDER!'

Severus stared at the other man, completely unable to grapple with the sudden feeling of respect that he was experiencing for Sirius Black for the first time since …

_Well, always._

He couldn't recall a second time when somebody had dared to openly criticize and answer back to Albus Dumbledore. Nor could he ever recall a second time when Sirius had said something sensible. Harry moved in his arms now and Snape loosened his embrace so that the boy could pull away and look up at him. When he spoke, Harry sounded strangely calm and collected.

'Severus,' he said, 'you have chosen appropriate guardians for me, have you not?'

'Yes, I have.'

'And if it was my wish to return to Malfoy Manor and live with Lucius and Narcissa, I would have your full consent, yes?'

'Certainly,' Severus replied with the ghost of a smile. 'Funnily enough it's the Malfoys I have chosen as your new guardians.'

'Imagine that,' Harry said, his voice void of mirth, as he turned around to face the rest of the room. 'Like my godfather has said, not respecting my mum's last requests is unacceptable. You've heard Severus; he has chosen my guardians. _And_ it is my decision to live with the Malfoys, too.' Harry looked straight at Dumbledore. 'You have no choice but to respect this decision.'

Amazed as he was by Harry's composed and rather cool attitude, there was no doubt in Severus's mind that Dumbledore would argue with Harry now; that he would try to find a loophole that would stop Harry from becoming the child of a known Death Eater, but the Headmaster surprised them all by nodding.

'If this is your wish, Harry.'

'It's my mother's wish,' corrected Harry quietly, but the old wizard had already left the kitchen.

'Harry, your mother was a wonderful woman, but I don't think she knew quite what she-' Mrs. Weasley began, but she stopped immediately when she saw the look on everybody else's face and merely resumed wringing her hands in despair.

'Narcissa is a good person,' Tonks told her soothingly, albeit reluctantly. 'She's married to the wrong man, alright, but I'm certain she's a good mother.'

Without another word Molly turned around to the kitchen sink and began scrubbing the pots and pans – without the use of magic and a lot harder than necessary.

'Do you really, really think that this is the right decision, Severus?' her husband meanwhile asked Snape, his tone not one of irritation but concern and curiosity.

'Of course I do,' Severus said curtly. '_We_ do,' he added with a nod towards Harry, who was sitting down next to his godfather now.

'Narcissa and Lucius have invited you to come over and take a look at their home, so you can see for yourself how I live now,' he told Sirius, who was studying his own hands. 'I'd love to show you my new room, Sirius, it's really cool … Gryffindor colors and all, you know?'

Sirius snorted. 'Gryffindor colors in a Slytherin Palace?' he asked.

'Uh-huh,' Harry grinned lopsidedly. 'It's really cool!'

'You've mentioned that.'

'Sorry,' replied Harry, his voice suddenly hoarse. The all-too-familiar anger with the Animagus flared up inside Severus again, but he decided to swallow down any scathing remarks and let Harry deal with his dogfather on his own like he knew his young mate wanted to.

'You know … when you asked me if I wanted to come and live with you back in my third year, I could not have been happier,' Harry suddenly said. 'I spent entire days imagining our life together as one big pajama party. We would stay up until the wee morning hours, eat ice-cream for breakfast, play Quidditch in the living room-'

'But we can still do that!' Sirius interrupted him, looking at Harry for the first time. 'Our life _will_ be one big party, I promise you! Harry, once my name is cleared, we can move out of this dreadful house and find ourselves a nice little place together and live together just like brothers! What do you think?'

'Sirius …' Harry stopped. After a moment, he tried again. 'Sirius, I think you want things to be like they were with my dad back then, but I'm not my dad and you're not my brother! ('_Thank Merlin for both,_' Severus thought.) Believe me, it's not that I blame you and some time ago, I would have been more than happy with it. I thought I was old enough to get by without parents, but living with the Malfoys showed me that I still want all that ... that … parent stuff,' he finished quietly.

Sirius frowned, although Severus noticed he never bothered to correct Harry's surmise about James (and he knew Harry had noticed, too). 'What parent stuff?' Sirus asked.

'A mother who sits down on my bedside to say goodnight each evening,' Harry explained. 'Who buys me clothes and scolds me for wearing out my t-shirts! A father who's interested in by booklist and expects me to do well at school! Parents who think I ought to be in bed before midnight and tell me to wash my hands before dinner!'

Harry stopped. Severus looked at Molly Weasley, sensing that she wanted to use the pause to tell Harry that she and Arthur could give him all this and more, and stopped the red-haired witch with a single silencing glare. Mrs. Weasley snapped her mouth shut again and angrily returned to her dishes.

'So- so will you come and visit me?' Harry asked his godfather nervously. But Sirius shook his head without looking at him.

'No, Harry,' he said. 'I won't. Maybe I'm wrong - I _hope_ that I am - maybe Narcissa and Lucius will be good parents for you, who knows? But they are still Death Eaters! So until they don't openly and publicly distance themselves from the Dark Lord, I will not step foot into their house. I'm sorry.'

Severus could tell that Harry had not quite expected this reply from his godfather and that it hurt him to be brushed off like that, but this time Harry hid his disappointment well. 'Fair enough,' he answered after a moment's pause, his voice steady. He pushed his chair back and got up, pulling a piece of paper out of the pocket of his new jeans as he did so. He put it in front of Sirius.

'Could you please sign this for me?' he asked as he turned to leave.

Sirius glanced at the paper for a moment before he looked up in surprise. 'Don't you have _parents_ to do that now?' he called after Harry and only then did Severus realize that Harry must have given Sirius the permission form for next term's London visit.

'I do,' Harry said. 'But I thought you might want to do it anyway.' He smiled. 'It's a tradition now, isn't it?'

Sirius opened his mouth to no doubt deny Harry's request. But before Severus could cut him short (he would not let the convict hurt Harry one more time!), Harry did so for him.

'You don't have to do it right away,' he said quickly, while motioning for Severus to follow him towards the door. Then he waved at the room at large and mouthed 'We'll talk later,' to Ron and Hermione. Snape could tell that Harry was very eager to leave this gloomy house at last and that it actually took him some effort not to _push_ Severus out of the kitchen. But just before they left the room, however, Harry turned around once more and told Sirius:

'You'd better return it with a normal post owl, though, because owls will only get through our barriers on regular mail delivery days. Bye now!'

* * *

'LUCIUS! LUUUUU-CIUS!'

Narcissa Malfoy stood at the edge of their large back garden and sighed irritably when her calls weren't answered. Nighttime had fallen already, along with the rain. The dinner table was set and waiting and they were expecting visitors any minute now … and yet Lucius, Draco and Harry were nowhere to be seen.

Shaking her head, Narcissa opened her umbrella and looked at the sight in front of her. Two weeks ago her husband, Draco and Harry had turned the vast green lawn behind the house into a Quidditch pitch, complete with three large hoops on either side. And since then she had rarely seen the three of them during daytime. But try as she might, Narcissa could not quite understand the concept of a Quidditch pitch when the game wasn't even confined to the dimensions of such pitch!

She pulled out her wand and magically turned it into a loudspeaker. 'If you don't want to be sent to bed without dinner, you had better come done here in the next minute!' And as an afterthought she added: 'AND THAT GOES FOR ALL THREE OF YOU, LUCIUS MALFOY!'

Her voice traveled loud and clear over the Quidditch pitch and well beyond, but another thirty seconds passed without Narcissa seeing neither hide nor hair of her three men. She almost contemplated telling them 'I will lock all windows and doors and let you sleep on your Quidditch pitch tonight!' (only to realize that such threat would have the exact reserve effect), when she saw a small dot coming out of the trees. It approached her with rapid speed and gradually took on the face and form of Harry Potter.

Narcissa smiled and waved at him.

A second and a third dark blotch appeared in the distance, chasing after the first, and soon the voices of Draco and Lucius could be heard yelling:

'TRAITOR!'

'HERE FOR FOUR WEEKS AND ALREADY A DISGRACE TO THE FAMILY!'

Harry laughed. Provocatively, he flew one last flourishing loop ('I'LL ASK MY PARENTS TO DISADOPT YOU, POTTER!') before he came to a heart-stopping halt right next to Narcissa. He jumped off his broom and wiped the rain off his face. These last few weeks in her care had done Harry very well, Narcissa thought proudly. She had cooked – not quite personally, of course – all his favorite meals (ignoring Draco's claims that Lasagna and Pasta would soon start growing out of his _ears_, thank you very much!) and these frequent, nutritious mealtimes had finally given him the long-needed additional pounds that, in the past, he had always kept loosing again during his stays with the Dursleys. The daily exercise on his broom had transformed those additional pounds into rather broad shoulders and muscular arms; muscles that one could actually _see_ these days, for Harry had finally gotten rather used to wearing regular-sized clothes. And while Harry – in true Malfoy-fashion - was more prone to sunburns rather than suntan, the many days outside had still managed to give his marble skin a healthy glow. But as he stood in front of her now, his cheeks flushed red and his green eyes sparkling behind his glasses, a feeling of regret mingled with Narcissa's pride.

_If __only Lily could see you now._

'Sorry, we're late!' Harry panted. 'Have they arrived yet?'

'No, not yet,' answered Narcissa. Pointing at Lucius and Draco, who were still approaching on their own brooms, she asked: 'I take it you have caught the Golden Snitch? Again?'

'No, I haven't, actually!' Harry grinned. 'Lucius did (Draco's not happy!), but when we heard you calling, we decided to race each other back here and …'

Lucius and Draco landed in front of them.

'Well. I _won_.' Harry ended his sentence smugly, making sure that he was heard by the other two men. He snickered impishly, when Lucius informed him of a rather old-fashioned disciplinary method that he would like to use on Harry one of these days, and put an arm around Draco's shoulder.

'So tell me, little brother,' he asked jovially and apparently oblivious to the fact that he had to stand on his tiptoes to reach his 'little brother's' shoulders, 'do you need a new broom or are you just a _really_ bad flyer?'

Laughing, he let go of Draco and darted out of reach, when the Slytherin aimed to punch.

'I'll race you upstairs!' he called over his shoulder and a second later he had dashed through the terrace door and out of sight – Draco following close behind.

* * *

In retrospect, Harry was certain that he could have _sensed_ him, had he not been too busy holding his sides that hurt from laughing and simultaneously trying not to slip on the marble tiles in his wet shoes as he rounded the corner to the grand Entrance Hall. As it was, Harry only noticed Severus the moment he ran face-first into him.

'Uff!' they both said and took a step back to look at each other; Harry rubbing his nose and Severus rubbing his chest. Excitement bubbled up inside of Harry at the sight of the other man, making it feel as though an army of pixies had just been let loose inside his stomach. They hadn't seen each other for three whole days, because Severus had been away on 'Order business' … and now here he was. Dark, imposing, beautiful and so very se-

'Ouch, Potter!'

Draco had caught up with Harry and, unable to stop in time, run straight into him; knocking him right back into Severus Snape's arms.

_Not that I'm complaining__ or something._

And for the second time, Harry peeled himself off his Potions Master. 'Hi, Sev!' he breathed, beaming at Snape, who looked down on him with a single raised eybrow. Harry was perfectly aware of the fact that he was grinning like an idiot, but right now he couldn't think of a single thing in the world that he would rather do than to just stand here and stare at the older man in front of him.

Apparently, Draco could.

'Get going, Harry!' he grunted from behind him, punching him in the shoulder. 'You can drool over my godfather later, if you must, but right now we need to hurry. The mudblood will be here soon!'

'Actually I already am,' a clipped, female voice replied from behind Severus and a quite irritated looking Hermione Granger stepped forward. Harry groaned inwardly.

_Smooth, Draco._

'Hermione! Ron!' he greeted his friends, taking his eyes off Severus with some effort.

He hugged Hermione and then clapped Ron, who looked clearly uncomfortable standing here in the Malfoy's striking Entrance Hall, on the shoulder in a welcoming gesture.

'Good to see you mate!'

Ron grinned crookedly, but blanched when he saw Narcissa and Lucius coming around the corner.

'Welcome, you two!' Narcissa smiled. 'How nice of you to come. How about you follow my husband and me into the parlor, while Draco and Harry quickly go up and get ready,' she raised an eyebrow at the two boys before repeating, '… _quickly_!'

Without another word or glance towards Hermione, Draco rushed past them and hurried up the stairs towards his room, taking two steps at a time. Meanwhile, Severus looked at the two guests. 'I will come back here in two hours to return you to The Burrow. I don't want you miss the Hogwarts Express tomorrow.'

'Yes, Professor,' Hermione nodded and then, complimenting Narcissa on her beautiful dress, followed the Malfoys into the parlor. Ron did too, but not before sending a last, desperate _'Oi! Don't leave me alone with these people for too long!'_ glance towards his fellow Gryffindor. Harry, however, had already turned back around to look at Severus.

'Hi,' he said again, trying not to grin _quite_ so stupidly this time.

'Hello there,' replied his teacher. He was smiling only slightly, but his onyx eyes were full of warmth. Taking note of Harry's flushed and rain-wet appearance, he added: 'You'll catch a cold.'

Harry took a step closer. 'Nah,' he said and it was almost like his voice was unable to say more than this.

'No?' Severus asked, stepping closer too. He reached out and gingerly brushed a strand of hair from Harry's forehead, revealing the lightning scar. 'How are you, Potter?' he asked, and Harry thought, he too sounded like he couldn't say much more.

'Alright,' Harry croaked and then he took one last step forward and wrapped his arms around the other man. He tried to burry his face in Severus's robes to breathe in his mate's scent, but already Severus was freeing himself from the embrace.

'I need to go again, Harry.'

'Back to the Order?'

'I only came to bring Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger.'

'Not to see me?' Harry asked, regretting his words immediately. Sounding like a petulant child was definitely no way to show Severus that he deserved the early age of consent his mother's letter had bestowed upon him.

'Never mind,' he said quickly and began to run up the stairs. 'I have to hurry, too! I need to change before dinner gets cold, I'm starving, and I'll see you at Hogwarts tomorrow anyway, right?' babbled. On top of the stairs, he turned around once more to wave half-heartedly. 'Bye, Severus!'

Irritated and confused, he then walked down the upper hallway towards his room when Draco came out of his, wearing new clothes and looking freshly showered and combed. He rolled his eyes when he saw that Harry wasn't ready yet himself.

'Get a move on, Potter!'

'And you go and apologize to Hermione!' Harry snapped, banging his door shut behind him.

* * *

Harry's eyes had long gotten used to the dark he was staring into for a good twenty minutes now, so much that he could not only make out the lake that divided the Malfoy Estate from Snape Manor, but also individual trees, the miniature chapel _thingy_ on the opposite side of the lake that Harry kept forgetting to ask about, and even the narrow path that led to the humongous hill that Snape Manor stood upon. Tall and gloomy it loomed on that hill, every room dark except for a small light behind what Harry knew to be Priya's window. Harry stuck out his tongue at the house; it stared back unblinkingly. Harry sighed.

Three hours ago he had made sure not to be around when Severus came by to bring Ron and Hermione back to The Burrow (only to return to his own 'Order business' right afterwards), but now Harry regretted his decision deeply. Longing gnawed painfully at his insides and he had begun to shiver despite the high late summer temperatures.

_Not a good sign._

Suddenly, a light went on inside Snape Manor. Harry thought it was the one on the hallway on the first floor, but before he could say for sure, the light went out again to be replaced by another light; one that Harry knew for certain to be inside Severus's room. Harry sighed again.

_He's back._

Chewing on his bottom lip, Harry contemplated what to do now. Should he go over and make a fool of himself yet again by wanting and needing something that Severus quite obviously didn't? Should he go over and apologize for his childish behavior? Should he tell Severus that he was literally aching to be with the other man at the moment? Severus had made him _promise_ that he would come to him in those moments, no matter what time of day it was.

But did that include days on which Severus didn't even want to hug him?

Maybe he should just let it go for today. He would get to see Severus again soon after all. Tomorrow evening. In the Great Hall. That wasn't too bad, was it?

Abruptly Harry jumped from the windowsill and walked over to his fireplace, frowning at it as though it was responsible for his miserable mood. The fireplace was connected to another one over at Snape Manor, he knew, presumably the one in Severus's study. He could just floo over there without even letting Severus know and just … _lurk_. He could walk around the study and touch Severus's stuff, he could sneak down into the kitchen and nick a few of Priya's cookies. Harry threw some Floo powder into the fireplace and stepped inside the resulting green flames with one leg.

He could lie down on his old bed and imagine it was Sev's or he could just sit down in front of Severus's bedroom and listen to his mate's sleep until he had calmed down enough to go back home and find sleep himself. Harry pulled in his other leg. He could … But before he could finish the thought, let alone name his desired destination, the green fire ate him and spit him out on all fours on the other end.

'So this is what they meant by 'One-Way-Floo,' Harry coughed. He rubbed the soot from his eyes with the hem of his shirt and when he thought it save to open them again, he did.

And found himself kneeling right in front of Severus Snape.

'Blimey!' he gasped, shock tingling inside his temples. 'I thought you were in your bedroom. Oh.' He gulped, taking in his surroundings. 'This _is_ your bedroom.'

He looked back at Severus, who had not yet spoken and was still sitting unmovingly in the armchair in front of Harry. His face was void of all emotion and his black eyes, that had looked at him so warmly five hours prior, were now unfathomable.

'Sev?' Harry asked tentatively, getting up from the floor. 'Sev, are you angry?'

Severus didn't reply.

'I'm sorry, Severus,' Harry continued, willing his voice not to shake. 'I thought I would come out in your study and since I had seen the lights coming on in your _bedroom_, I didn't think I would even get to see you. I wasn't going to bother you. I just … I just wanted … I wanted to … to be close,' he stuttered, his face flushed with embarrassment, 'you're not mad at me now, are-'

'Silence.'

Harry snapped his mouth shut. He could barely remember the last time when Severus Snape had reprimanded him in such a manner and he could hardly say that it bothered him as little now as it had back then. Because it _did_ bother him.

A lot.

'Alright,' Harry said, 'whatever.' He turned on his heels and stalked back to the fireplace. Blindly, he plunged his hand into the bowl of Floo powder on the mantelpiece, but hesitated before actually throwing it into the hearth.

'This is the moment where you should call after me and say you're sorry,' he said hoarsely.

He turned around to look at the other man. Severus Snape still hadn't moved. His hands were clenched around the armrests of his chair so tightly that his knuckles stood out white. His jaw was clenched, too, Harry could tell. But other than that, Severus's face was still emotionless; his eyes still lacking any warmth. Or love.

'The moment where you convince me that our soulmate connection does indeed work both ways?' Harry offered. 'No?'

Severus said nothing.

'Oh well,' Harry whispered. He threw the Floo powder into the fireplace and watched as the magical green flames rose higher and higher. 'I'm sorry I've bothered you, Professor Snape,' he said quietly. 'Good night.'

After the green flames released their hold on him and returned him to his own bedroom, Harry expected to cry, but … the tears would not come. Shaking violently instead, he stood in the middle of his beautiful new room and wondered when the world would come crushing down on him.

Any minute now, surely, his life would end.

It had to. He was only sixteen. He couldn't live without his soulmate.

_Yet._

_Ever._

Without Severus.

_Never._

What had he done to make Severus so angry? So cold? What had he done to make Severus withdraw all his love from him again – so suddenly and without a warning?

_I will die now._

_Will it hurt him?_

He drove around when the fire behind him unexpectedly flared up again and flinched when the green flames released Severus Snape with an angry hiss.

'Next time I tell you to be silent, Potter, will you kindly just shut the hell up?' Severus barked and came striding towards him so quickly that Harry flinched again.

_He's going to hit me._

But Severus didn't hit him. Instead he, quite literally, swept Harry off his feet and growled 'You insufferable, intolerable, impossible _imp_!'

And then he kissed Harry.

He kissed him so thoroughly that all Harry could do was to wrap his legs around the other man's waist, his arms around his neck and … let himself be kissed.

Thoroughly.

Dimly he noticed how Severus carried him over to the bed and laid him – them – down upon it, without ever breaking their kiss.

'_I'm__ already dead,' _Harry thought, savoring the weight of the other man on him, _'I've just died and this is my heaven.'_

_**To be continued …**_


	39. Sanctuary

* * *

**Disclaimer:  
**I'm still not J.K. Rowling and I still don't own any of these characters.  
Only a small part of Miko, if anything.

**Author's Note:  
**

When this chapter – which was supposed to be part II of chapter 38's originally titled "The Fragility of Time" - reached the length of at least three (very) long chapters and I still wasn't able to find an end, I knew I had to make a cut _somewhere_ in order to finally be able to give you … _something_. Consequently, I had to rename chapter 38 as well as this one, because the rather prophetic title "The Fragility of Time" is needed for a specific moment in this story – and this isn't it yet, because I just can't seem to get to the point. But I hope the title can finally be put to use with the next chapter(s). Don't worry, this will make sense to you eventually ;-).

After reading this, many of you will probably feel that chapter 39 wasn't worth the absurdly long wait – and I agree whole-heartedly - but please keep in mind that this is really just the intro of a much longer chapter, most of which is already written. This means you won't have to wait long for yet another update and that is something, isn't it?! Oh, and I should warn you, this chapter's a bit on the fluffy side. I had deserted these characters for so long, that I probably felt as if I needed to make up to them ;-).

As always, thank you very much for your patience and your motivation. You guys rock my socks!

* * *

Chapter 39  
**"Sanctuary"**

'_I'm already dead,' _Harry thought, savouring the weight of the other man on him, _'I've just died and this is my heaven.'_

'Nonsense,' a voice in his head growled back, 'You do not have my permission to die, Potter!'

Somewhat stunned, but far less surprised than he reckoned he ought to be, Harry recognized the other voice as that of Severus Snape. He wanted to comment on the wondrous fact that they were conversing inside Harry's head without actually saying something. He wanted to ask why Severus had behaved so coldly a few minutes ago, whereas he was now practically ravishing Harry with kisses. He wanted to scold the other man for giving him a scare. He wanted to say that making out was a whole lot better than his classmates had made it out to be. Harry wanted to say _something_, but he forgot how to form words when Severus's mouth left his own to devour his neck with unyielding enthusiasm. Unconscious of his own movements, Harry turned his head to the side to grant the older man better access. He shivered when his Potions master placed a feathery kiss just above his neckline; writhed when a tongue darted out and luxuriously traced the pulsing artery in his throat upwards. When Severus began suckling on his earlobe, a sound escaped Harry's throat that he had never heard before – _Was that me?! _- and instinctively his legs tightened their hold on the other man's waist. Now it was Severus who groaned – a noise that went right to Harry's groin.

'You think this is easy for me, don't you?' Severus asked suddenly, interrupting their kiss to look at Harry rather angrily. 'Do you think I'm enjoying what I have to do?!'

Harry had no idea what the other man was talking about and at this moment he found he didn't quite care. He only wanted Severus's lips back on him. He needed them. He needed them now!

_Good gosh, M__erlin, please!_

He sighed in relief and closed is eyes when he felt Severus lowering his mouth onto this throat again; hungrily, as if he needed the physical contact as much as much as Harry did – although Harry thought this couldn't possibly be true. Soon the Potions master's lips travelled upwards until they met Harry's. But this time the kiss wasn't as rough, rushed and possessive as the one before. This time, Severus's kiss was as gentle as Harry had known it to be from the night of his sixteenth birthday.

'You have doubted me,' the teacher whispered against his lips. 'You have doubted our bond. I think you're in dire need of detention, Potter.' Ever so gently, Snape's tongue flickered out to caress Harry's upper lip.

_He can give me detention any day._

Much too soon, Severus pulled away again. 'Let me explain why I behaved the way I did earlier,' he said.

'You don't have to,' Harry replied airily, his eyes still closed, 'we can just continue snogging, fine by me.'

There was a short pause until Severus warily replied: 'Harry, you do realize that this has to be an exception, right?'

'Darn it. I knew you would say that,' Harry complained, but he didn't sound angry. Instead, he finally opened his eyes to look at the other man. 'Yes, I do realize you only want to make up for being a twat earlier,' he said wisely. 'But I'm afraid you're not quite done making up to me yet, Professor Snape, for I'm still angry with you.'

'Is that so?' Severus pulled away a little further yet to look down on Harry, both his eyebrows raised in obvious amusement.

'Very angry!' Harry insisted. Still clinging to the other man with both his arms and legs, he used his entire weight to try and pull Severus back towards him, all the while pursing his lips in a rather obvious and not at all subtle demand.

'You monkey,' Severus chuckled before pressing a chaste kiss on Harry's inviting lips. His face became serious again. 'When you came over just now, Harry, I was busy employing Occlumency against the Dark Lord.'

Promptly, Harry released his hold on the other man. His arms and legs fell limply on to the bed. 'Severus, I'm sorry!'

'And so you should be,' Severus grinned. 'Your timing is quite dreadful, Mister Potter.'

'I'll never use the Floo again,' said Harry miserably.

'Don't be ridiculous.'

'But-'

Severus cut him off. '_But_ should you ever see me behaving this, shall we say oddly ('Yes, oddly is a good word,' Harry confirmed) again, I want you to step out of my range of vision and _be quiet_ until I tell you otherwise. Is that understood?'

'Yes, sir,' Harry mumbled without rebellion.

Severus pressed a light kiss on the teenager's brow before getting up off Harry to sit down on the bedside. He propped his elbows on his knees and buried his face in both of his hands, looking tired and almost … defeated. Harry hated to see the other man like this. He hated to be so damned far away from him, too, and so he moved to sit behind Severus. He slid his legs down the side of the bed, so that he was straddling his mate from behind, wrapped both his arms around Severus's chest and rested his head against his back.

'Of course you're not enjoying this,' he said, suddenly realizing that Severus had referred to his work as a spy earlier. 'I would never think so. I'm sorry.'

He felt Severus taking his hands into his own and gracing his fingertips with a kiss.

'It is I who needs to apologize for making you feel unwelcome today, Harry. I should have told you about the Dark Lord's increasing mental investigations.'

'Why is he investigating you?' asked Harry. 'Did he find out that you have a real bad crush on me?'

He felt Snape smile against his hand.

'I highly doubt it, brat. But as it is in his nature, Voldemort is growing ever more suspicious and mistrusting about where his followers' loyalties lie. Mine, in particular.'

'Why?'

'Because it is one thing to not put an end to Harry Potter's life underneath the nose of Albus Dumbledore, but an entirely different thing to spend some agreeable time with the Golden Boy away from Hogwarts.'

'He knows?' Harry gasped. 'He knows I live here now?'

'Don't be a fool,' replied Severus. 'But I myself had to tell him that I took you in last holidays, lest he would have found out through somebody else. I spun him a tale of how the Order of the Phoenix had placed you in my care as a test of my loyalty to them and he believed me. Nonetheless, he soon began to test my loyalty to _him_ on an increasingly regular basis.'

'By using Legilimency on you?'

Severus nodded and Harry didn't know what to say. He suddenly realized that, despite all the time and effort he and Draco had put into their private Legilimency lessons so far, he had never truly given them his utmost attention and now he felt guilty. Every single day Severus was going through hell to protect them, whereas he, Harry, could so easily end both their lives (and those of the people they loved) at any given moment, simply because _he_ had never bothered to become as good at Occlumency as he ought to be.

'Don't be so hard on yourself,' Severus said, squeezing his hands. 'It should have been clear to me right from the beginning that _our_ Occlumency lessons would be a right disaster, seeing that we are linked to each other. Fortunately, Draco tells me you aren't quite as useless during _his_ lessons.'

Harry groaned. 'You just read my thoughts _again_,' he said, banging his forehead against Severus's back, 'and yet you tell me that I'm _not_ useless at Occlumency?'

Severus smirked. 'I'm your soulmate. Reading your thoughts is my prerogative, Potter.'

'Oh yeah?' Harry shot back. 'Well, you're my soulmate, too, and you're not an open book to _me_.'

Severus laughed softly. 'I will be soon enough, I'm afraid.'

'I know,' Harry replied happily. Then he admitted: 'But Severus, I _am_ useless. I rarely ever manage to block Draco's Legilimency attacks.'

Severus nodded. 'I know. But instead you've become quite an expert on feeding your attacker faux images, Harry, and that is just as good if not better.'

'That's what Draco says, but I don't really understand how making up things can be better than blocking a Legilimency spell altogether.'

'A truly gifted Legilimens will always know when his attempts to read someone's mind are blocked by a counter-spell. This will show him that you have something important to hide. So instead you want to feed him fabricated thoughts or memories, such as the empty Transfiguration classroom you're so fond of, for example,' Severus nodded appreciatively, 'so that he won't know that something's amiss. For example: Before you floo'd over earlier, I was too exhausted and frankly didn't see the need to employ much Occlumency against Voldemort's current attack on my mind. And so I merely emptied my thoughts of all things Harry Potter,' he gave Harry's hand another affectionate squeeze, 'and merely let him see through my own eyes what I was looking at, which was my empty bedroom and a very fine and half-full bottle of firewhisky; one I was very intent on finishing tonight.'

Harry sighed. 'And then _I_ fell through the chimney.'

'And then _you_ fell through the chimney and I quickly had to conjure up the mental image of a still-Harry Potter-free bedroom. But, don't you see, had I suddenly begun to block the Dark Lord's Legilimency in order to not let him see you, he would have realized that something out of the ordinary was going on.'

Harry pulled in his legs and sat down next to Severus, so that he could look into the other man's face.

'Will you be alright?' he asked.

'Oh, I'm quite confident, Potter.'

'But?' Harry asked, picking up the hesitation in the other man's voice.

'_But_ deceiving the Dark Lord is becoming harder by the minute. It now requires every ounce of my strength,' Severus conceded.

Cold panic rose in Harry's chest. 'Has Voldemort become _that_ strong?'

Severus shook his head and reached out to push a hand through Harry's short, black hair. He smiled, but his eyes were serious.

'No, Harry,' he said, 'but you're becoming more beautiful each day.'

* * *

When Harry entered the Malfoys' spacious kitchen the next morning, he could barely get out a 'Good morning', before Narcissa had already swooped down on him, pressed a kiss on his cheek, asked him if he had slept well and (without really waiting for an answer) pushed him into a chair behind the breakfast table. After tousling Harry's hair, she rushed over to the kitchen counter, where Miko, the Malfoys' house elf, was currently preparing some toast.

'I'll do it, Miko,' she said - and with that she lifted the highchair, on which Miko was sitting, and put it – along with the highly indignant looking elf – to the side and out of her way. Then, she took the knife from the elf's hand and, firing off further questions for Harry ('Have you packed everything? Is Draco up yet? And have you seen Lucius, by any chance? Did you say goodbye to Priya already?'), continued to spread peanut butter on the two slices of toast in front of her.

Trying to keep up with his foster mother's rapid questioning by answering with 'yes' and 'no' only, Harry got up again and walked over towards the coffee maker. Miko, sniffing the chance to make himself useful after all, hurried to pass Harry a mug with a simple snap of his little fingers, but Harry had already reached the shelf and took down a coffee mug for himself. Miko's shoulders slumped in defeat. Harry smiled apologetically and poured himself a generous cup of coffee. He leaned back against the counter and began sipping the hot, dark liquid as he continued to watch Narcissa.

Narcissa Malfoy preparing breakfast – or any meals for that matter - was an all new sight to Harry and judging by Miko's behaviour, this wasn't only due to the fact that he had not lived in this house for long. No, Narcissa was definitely acting a little odd this morning – a little too eager, too bright, too excited.

'Maybe she's always like this on back-to-school days,' Harry wondered, remembering how chaotic these days had been at The Burrow. Mrs. Weasley had never acted much differently actually, only that Narcissa wasn't yelling at everybody to be 'down here in three minutes or you'll be home schooled by that ghoul – or Percy!' ... yet. Even his aunt Petunia had used the end of each holiday to fuss over Dudley even more than usual, so maybe all mothers went a little loopy on a day like this.

_What do I know about parents?_

'Strawberry jam, sunshine?" Narcissa now asked airily.

'Yes, please,' Harry nodded and Narcissa spread a benevolent amount of jam on top of the peanut butter toasts. A moment later, she put a hand on his back and firmly steered Harry and his coffee mug back towards the kitchen table. Grinning, Harry obeyed and sat back down to receive his breakfast.

'Thanks,' he said and Narcissa briefly tousled his hair once more before hurrying back to the counter to stop Miko from cleaning up after her.

'I'll do it,' she said again and began rummaging around the kitchen while firing off a second round of questions ("Did you find your broom cleaning set? Did you remember the permission slip for your London trip? Do the Weasleys know that you'll get there at seven?") in Harry's direction. 'Yes. Yes. Yes,' he answered between bites and was almost glad when the door opened and they were joined by Lucius and Draco. The two were in the middle of an argument, it seemed, and Draco was looking rather grumpy.

'It's three in the morning,' he complained (although a quick glance at the clock confirmed to Harry that it was indeed quarter past six). 'You could have let me sleep a _little_ longer, still.'

'Stop whining, son,' Lucius ordered and Harry chuckled.

Draco yawned and fell into the chair next to Harry. Like Narcissa, he was lacking a lot of a Malfoy's characteristic poise this morning. Still giggling, Harry leaned over to bump his shoulder against Draco by way of saying good morning.

'What are you laughing at anyway, _Potter_?' Draco spat and Harry flinched at the once-so-familiar biting tone. Draco's face was a mask of hatred and disgust – a sneer that he hadn't seen for so long, Harry had almost forgotten. Even Narcissa was shocked.

'Draco! Be nice!'

Instinctively, Harry looked over at Lucius and was surprised to find the other man studying him carefully. This threw Harry even more off guard than Draco's violent reaction and, confused and somewhat insecure, he looked down on his toast. He wasn't hungry anymore. Next to him, Draco sighed.

'Cheer up, Oliver Twist, I was only warming up for Hogwarts.'

'Draco!' Narcissa scolded again, but this time she sounded unhappy.

Harry forced a smile. 'I knew you were,' he lied, but Draco wasn't fooled.

'Honestly, Potter, don't you remember the times where we loved to hate each other at all?'

'Those were the days, huh?'

Draco nodded. 'And do you reckon you could whip out one of your not-so-witty-and-completely-unoriginal standard comebacks from those days every once in a while?' he asked. 'Something like 'Eat dung, Malfoy' or 'Why don't you drop dead, you -'

'NO!' his mother interrupted him loudly. Narcissa banged a hand on the counter. 'Not in this house!'

Lucius, whose tea cup was currently being filled by a very pleased looking Miko, smirked. 'Narcissa, darling! Let them practice. The sooner these two get back into the habit the better. A healthy little dose of malice won't hurt anyone.'

'This isn't funny, Lucius Abraxas Malfoy, and they will get back into the habit soon enough!'

This was the first time that Harry saw Narcissa Malfoy being angry and he found that to be even more unsettling than seeing the usually so elegant and graceful woman bustling around the kitchen like Molly Weasley.

'There will be none of that awful hostility in this house! This is Harry's home now and inside these walls he will be protected, respected and loved!'

'But outside I'm allowed to torture him?' Draco asked hopefully, but his mother wasn't in the mood for jokes. 'You know fully well that this is not what I meant!' she snapped.

'It's okay, Narcissa,' Harry hurried to assure her. 'I don't mind. Really!' He turned to Draco and practiced a glare. 'Eat slugs, Malfoy!' he threatened and, simultaneously, the two boys started giggling at the memory of Ron's backfired Slug Spell that had once forced the redhead to belch slugs for more than one hour.

Lucius rolled his eyes.

'Absurdly convincing!' he praised Harry, causing the boys to giggle some more.

Narcissa gave a shaky sigh. Lucius put an arm around his wife and led her over to the table, where they sat down on the opposite side of Harry and Draco.

'I told you we should have talked to him sooner,' he quietly told her, but Narcissa did not reply and only looked down on her hands that were folded in her lap. All previous tension seemed to have left her and on some level Harry realized that, whatever Lucius wanted to talk about, it had been the sole reason for Narcissa's earlier nervousness and flurry. She had known that this conversation was going to take place - and had dreaded it all along.

Harry saw that Draco didn't look surprised either. Quietly, the Slytherin asked the house elf to prepare him a bowl of cereal. Miko happily obliged and a few quick finger snaps later, Draco was already munching on some cornflakes. His gaze was focused on Lucius, however, and Harry pushed his own plate aside, to do the same.

'Harry,' Lucius began. He folded his hands on the table, which gave their conversation an air of formality, and Harry copied the gesture to show Lucius that he had his undivided attention. This brought a small smile to Lucius's face before he continued. 'You are a member of this family now and of course you will _remain_ a member of this family even _outside_ these walls, namely after your return to Hogwarts.'

They all looked over at Narcissa, who smiled distractedly before motioning for her husband to go on.

'This means we expect regular reports from you just as we do from Draco. We want to be informed of your well-being or possible lack thereof, any test results or detentions ... although you are permitted to withhold information about any so-called _detentions_ with a certain Potions master.'

Lucius grinned slyly and Harry, whose thoughts were immediately propelled back to his _detention_ in his bedroom last night, did his best not to blush.

_If only you knew, Lucius._

'All joking aside, Narcissa and I expect to hear from you on a regular basis, Harry. You can give your letters to Severus, who will pass them on to us. We, too, will give him our letters to you as well as anything else that we might want to pass on.'

'Like your pocket money,' Narcissa threw in.

Harry protested that Narcissa and Lucius didn't need to give him pocket money on top of all things they were already paying for, but no member of his new family would hear of it.

'Of course you'll get pocket money, Harry,' said Narcissa simply.

'Don't be daft. Before we'll know it we're old and have to pay for _them_,' Draco told Harry in a faux whisper. 'We might as well take whatever we can get now.'

'Now you're a Malfoy, Harry. Thus, you are entitled to all benefits thereof,' Lucius said, pointedly ignoring his biological son, '… as well as all the obligations.'

Narcissa got up abruptly and carried Harry's plate over to the dishwasher … and Harry understood.

'And it's those obligations you really want to talk about, isn't it?' he asked softly.

Lucius nodded. 'Severus will be here in a few minutes to bring you to The Burrow,' – the name crossed Lucius's lips as easily as if he was a regular and always welcomed guest at the Weasleys' home and fortunately this amused Harry so much that he forgot to flush at the sudden mention of Severus's name – 'and so I will try and make this quick. Most of what I'm going to tell you is common sense and won't come as much of a surprise, but I need to make sure that you -' Lucius paused, apparently unsure of how to phrase what he had to say. Harry came to his aid.

'You need to make sure I understand the rules,' he said. 'I'm a member of this family and you will treat me as such … whenever we're at home and among ourselves. In public, you will continue to treat me as you have always done: as the snotty brat you can't wait to see getting killed by your Dark Lord. Correct?'

Lucius didn't blink. 'Correct. Except the _snotty brat_ would be my other son. You're the _annoying scar face_.'

Harry chuckled, surprisingly pleased by how Lucius had referred to Draco as his 'other' son.

'The adoption is legal and official, but for now only under Muggle law,' Lucius continued as if on cue. 'Once the Dark Lord is dead, we will initiate a proper wizarding adoption, but at this point only Muggle records could prove that you're our son and, fortunately, we Death Eaters are too ignorant to ever bother looking at those.'

'But what if they do? What if they get wind of the adoption and start snooping around?'

'I'm certain that won't happen,' Lucius shrugged, surprisingly unconcerned. 'Unless my fellow Death Eaters would be looking for the records of a certain Harold Turner, who was adopted by the lovely Mr. and Mrs. Schmidt more than six years ago.'

'But I thought the adoption was legal and official.' Harry sounded a lot more disappointed than he had intended and Lucius's supreme smirk warmed a notch.

'Does 'legal and official' necessarily have to mean 'magically unaltered'?' he asked.

'Not if you're asking a Slytherin, I suppose,' Harry returned dryly. And when he didn't look much happier still, Lucius elaborated: 'We merely put a charm on your records that will reveal our true identities only if the files are requested by my wife and I, until we consider it save to reverse the spell. To anyone else, the aforementioned names would appear and, obviously, not be of any help. In addition to this, we took the liberty of Obliviating all of the Muggles who worked on our case.'

'Okay,' Harry said somewhat hesitatingly. It surprised him that Lucius Malfoy, whose property was better guarded than Azkaban, would be satisfied with such relatively lax security measures – the Disguising Spell sounded like even he could get around it if only he tried hard enough - but he didn't have much time to dwell on it, because a funny tingle suddenly spread between his shoulder blades.

With his heart now beating quite madly, he turned around and watched as the door opened a few seconds later to let in Severus Snape.

'You're quite creepy,' Draco informed Harry, but the other teen only had eyes for his mate.

Severus was already dressed in his usual black school robes (although Harry couldn't recall them ever looking so good on the man before) and with them back on, Snape's entire demeanour seemed to have changed. Along with the casual dress shirt and slacks, the bounce in his step had vanished, too, only to be replaced by a 'used to hurrying down long school corridors' stride. The amused smile, that Harry had come so accustomed to seeing on his mate's face during the summer holidays, had made way for the usual annoyed-bordering-on-downright-irritated frown.

The Greasy Git was back.

'Good morning everyone,' Severus said … and that small sentence ran down Harry's spine like whipped cream. The Gryffindor struggled to get his goofy grin under control and instead watched wordlessly how Severus made his round around the kitchen table. First, Severus bent down to kiss Narcissa's cheek a lot stiffer than usual and then he quietly said something to Lucius, who nodded. Back on their side of the table, Snape swiftly patted Draco's shoulder, and then – finally! – looked at Harry.

And only then did Severus seem to remember that he wasn't back at Hogwarts quite yet and his features softened visibly.

'Good morning, Potter,' he repeated, but once again Harry's reply got lost somewhere in his windpipe, when the teacher put a hand on his neck and pulled him closer to place a kiss on his forehead. Apparently not expecting a reply, Severus sat down on the free chair next to Harry and accepted a cup of Earl Grey from Miko. He had enough time to calmly blow the steam away and take a long sip, before Harry finally burst out:

'Hi!'

Lucius and Narcissa laughed openly, while Miko politely giggled into the palm of his hand. 'Pathetic!' Draco groaned and even Severus chuckled into his tea.

Harry tried to gain back some of his dignity by ignoring everyone. 'Where were we?' he asked Lucius.

'Charmed adoption papers,' replied the Slytherin, still laughing. 'And now I believe Severus has something to tell us.'

On the other side of Harry, Draco reached over and put a hand on his godfather's arm. 'But don't expect your soulmate to actively participate in this conversation, okay?' he said. 'Ouch!' he laughed, dislodging Harry's elbow from his ribs.

Mortified, Harry felt his face heating up even further. But he couldn't help it! How was he supposed to act normal around Severus, when those memories wouldn't leave! They were everywhere!

Severus's hands.

Severus's mouth.

Severus's voice.

Severus's tongue.  
_  
If Voldemort would enter my mind now …  
_  
_'Umbridge. Umbridge. Umbridge.'_ Harry began to chant mentally. _'Umbridge, Umbridge, Umbridge …'  
_  
Suddenly, he felt Severus putting a hand on his neck again, only this time it remained where it was. And against all odds, the touch didn't confuse Harry further, but instead helped him clear his – admittedly not exactly G-rated – thoughts.

Well, to a certain extent.

'If I'm not mistaken, Lucius was in the middle of talking to you about the 'security measures' regarding your adoption,' Severus spoke and only his touch – defying all logic – kept another shiver from running down Harry's spine at the sound of his mate's velvet voice. This allowed him to pick up on the amusement in it, as though Severus doubted that those measures were anything but secure. But like Lucius, he didn't seem worried in the slightest, something that baffled Harry a little. He had expected the grown-ups to make a much bigger fuss about something that, if discovered by the wrong people, could ultimately become a danger to all their lives. But Slytherins were the sneaky, cunning ones, weren't they?

Did they know something that Harry didn't know?!

'Yes, I was,' Lucius agreed with Severus now, 'but I'm afraid I didn't get very far. It's about time these two got back to school and were taught some discipline again.'

Severus hummed interestedly, as though the idea held a great potential, and his two students giggled, although Harry sobered up quite quickly, when Severus - slowly removing his hand from Harry's neck - told him: 'I have met with the Dursleys this morning.'

'You have?!'

'Well, maybe 'breaking and entering' would describe it more accurately,' Severus conceded. 'But after that we _did_ talk and they agreed that it would be in your best interest if they still pretend to be your Guardians for the time being.'

Harry rolled his eyes. When had the Dursleys ever done something that was in his best interest?

'You mean you offered them enough money to make them agree,' he said, but even though he knew this assumption to be correct, Harry didn't feel much bitterness. He had had enough time to come to terms with the fact that he wasn't a welcomed member of the Dursleys' family and so it didn't hurt that Vernon and Petunia had no qualms "selling" him to strangers. It shamed him, true, but it didn't fill him with sorrow – whereas the mere idea of Lucius and Narcissa coming to regret their decision to adopt him, already filled Harry with more dread than the Dursleys had managed to induce in him over a span of fifteen years.

Severus continued as if he hadn't heard Harry's comment. 'This means that they will leave your old room untouched and, whenever anyone asks them about you, they will speak as if you're still a part of the family and still living underneath their roof during school holidays.'

'When I'm not locked away in St. Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys, of course,' Harry said and every Malfoy began to laugh. They stopped only when they saw the sour expression on Severus's face and looked back at Harry in complete disbelief.

'You mean there really is such a … centre?' Narcissa asked as if the thought scared her greatly.

'And they sent you there?' Lucius enquired.

'You're incurably criminal?' Draco beamed. 'Awesome!'

Harry shrugged. 'At least that's what they used to tell anyone who asked about me in the past. It sounds a lot better than 'That Harry's locked away in the cupboard because he's a wizard,' doesn't it?'

'It does,' Draco said appreciatively, but his parents did not look amused. Although he, too, had previously joked about the Dursleys' cupboard before, Lucius's jaw now tightened dangerously and Narcissa looked as though she was about to cry.

'It does not,' she said.

'I could steal a bit of your silverware,' Harry offered quickly, 'and maybe then you would agree.'

His words had the desired effect, because they made Narcissa smile again.

'Oh, you!' she laughed. She got up from the table and walked around to Harry's chair. Standing behind him, she wrapped one arm around his chest and ruffled his hair with her free hand. 'I don't think so,' she said in between two kisses on Harry's cheek.

Harry blushed.

'Thank you,' he said, not knowing how else to react. A little overwhelmed, he searched for Severus's gaze. His mate nodded reassuringly and, just for a second, Harry could have sworn he had heard him say 'You better get used to it,' although Severus hadn't opened his mouth at all.

'Maybe I should have warned you, Potter,' said Lucius. 'It takes much more than stealing a few knives and forks to get rid of us.'

'Yes, it does!' Narcissa tightened her embrace on Harry. Her cheek felt warm and soft next to his and he could smell her perfume.

'I think I don't want to find out how much,' Harry said.

_**To be continued …**_


	40. Eileen

Chapter 40  
**Eileen**

The house felt much too huge and much too empty all of a sudden.

When Harry had left Snape Manor to take up his place amongst his new family, he had taken much laughter and an indefinite amount of magical energy with him. Of course, he and Draco had still come over to visit her – and to pick up a few chocolate cookies – occasionally, but now that not only the boys but Severus and Yulub too had left to Hogwarts this morning, tfhe emptiness seemed almost unbearable. Priya sent one last controlling glance around the kitchen before she shut the blinds outside the last window. As she stood in the dark, the monotonous ticking of the old grandfather clock travelled from the entrance hall down into the silence of the kitchen and reminded her that she still had to drop the clock off at 'Ignatius Uhrmacher & Sons' before she left Snape Manor as well. Ever since Draco had crashed into the old clock while racing Harry to Sev's library four days ago, where both boys had hoped to find a Lisp Spell (whatever for they wouldn't say), the clock hands preferred to skip every other minute. The incident had prompted Severus to put a physical running ban on the boys, but he had been forced to lift the spell less than two hours later when the two rascals had, consequently, made it a point to take their own sweet time around his house and place each of their steps with great, great consideration and foresight, which had made them just about as fast as the common garden snail. Priya laughed at the memory of Harry and Draco walking in deliberate slow motion whilst their Potions master christened them with names their young ears couldn't possibly have heard before.

Trust on two Malfoy teenagers to wear down an active, tried and tested Spy!

Priya closed the kitchen door behind her and walked into the entrance hall where the clock's hiccups got louder the closer she got. 'You make a lot of racket for something that's not working properly, let me tell you that,' she told the grandfather clock disapprovingly. Truth be told, it worked incorrectly more often than not even without Draco running face first into it. Neither magic nor Muggle clockmakers seemed able to mend it permanently, but Severus couldn't bring himself to throw the noisy, old thing out. It was a beautiful old clock, alright, but the emotional ties wore heavier than that, Priya knew. The clock had once belonged to Tobias Snape and was basically the only artefact Severus had salvaged – had _wanted_ to salvage - from his past …

* * *

_She heard her screams long before the boy did. But by the time Tobias Snape had chased his wife into the hallway, her young charge had no choice but to hear them, too. Severus's gaze flew up from his book to see if she had heard the yelling and screaming too, and when their eyes met, the small boy blushed. Within seconds his expression streamed from embarrassment past panic and then grief before he finally managed to school his features into a look of indignation. His hands – one lying loosely on top of his novel and the other buried in his long, black hair – weren't acting quite as convincingly, however, and he soon had to fold them tightly to keep them from trembling. As if in a silent prayer, the six year old boy sat and listened to the noise outside._

_It was hard to make out what the point of his parents' argument was this time – not that it often had one. Priya could barely remember a day going by without some form of yelling and screaming from Mr. and Mrs. Snape. At least she had known what she had gotten herself into when she started working as a governess at Snape Manor a good five months ago. After all, she had literally walked into the middle of a fight on the day she had crossed the Snapes' threshold for the first time. Tobias and Eileen Snape had interrupted their argument barely long enough to open the door and let her in and Priya had instantly wanted to leave again. She had just wanted a job! A safe and unassuming job she could hide behind while waiting for better days. She had wanted to get_ away _from the violence and madness of the outside world for a while and not live underneath the mad hatters' roof, for – by Mircea's crown! - a madhouse this manor certainly was. And so Priya had turned to leave again (muttering something about a wrong time and place), when she had seen a small figure from the corner of her eyes: a little boy sitting on top of the staircase that led to the gallery on the first floor. With his shoulders hunched and his hands folded tightly upon his knees, he had regarded her through narrowed, black eyes. But it had not been suspicion Priya had read in those dark eyes, it had been neither malice nor madness. It had been hopelessness. The boy had_ known _she would leave again … turn on her foot just like all the other potential guardians before her had done. And so she had stayed._

_'Let go of me!'_

_Eileen's shriek brought Priya back to the here and now and she looked at her young charge. His mother's cry teetered on the brink of insanity, but Severus didn't even flinch. The lines of disgust on his young face merely deepened. It was the cry that followed – his father this time - that made him jump up._

_'Put that wand away!'_

_Tobias Snape's voice was so full of wild panic that Severus bolted out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Priya followed. Tobias Snape, whose eyes were blank with cold fear, stood close to the old grandfather clock, pressed against the wall, while his wife aimed her wand at his heart at point blank range. The air was so thick with magic that Priya wouldn't be surprised if Severus could feel it, too._

_'Mama!' the small boy cried now. 'Don't!'_

_The young witch turned around to face her son, but her wand hand never wavered. 'Don't?' she repeated with mocking incredulity. Then her voice changed into one of pure loathing. 'Don't you dare tell me what I can or can't do like your father or you too will feel what this wand can do,' she hissed and Severus took a step back and closer to his governess, just as Priya took a protective step forward. Eileen's face twisted._

_'You're just like him, aren't you? Hiding behind your nanny …' she sneered. 'I knew it. I knew you'd end up like your father. Got most of your genes from him, haven't you? You're more of a sissy Muggle than a wizard, aren't you?'_

_'I_ am _a wizard,' Severus said crossly and Priya would have been amused if the situation hadn't been so charged. Of all the insults his mother's statement offered, he was taking offence in her doubt of his magical blood – the most harebrained insult of all!_

_'Crouching in the garden, searching for puffapods, and stirring in a few pots and pans doesn't automatically make you a wizard, Severus,' Eileen snapped and Priya opened her mouth to finally interrupt the woman's attack on her son's pride, but Eileen luckily said no more, because Severus's father then demanded her attention._

_'Oh no, you don't!' Eileen cried. 'Don't you move! I am not done with you quite yet, Tobias Snape!' Tobias, who had attempted to sneak out of the danger zone unnoticed, stopped in his tracks._

_'Eileen, put that thing down, so we can talk reasonably,' he begged in an obvious effort to sound reasonable himself._

_'But you never talk reasonably, 'cause you rather use your fists instead!' Eileen wailed and Priya had to admit the witch had a point there. Eileen and Tobias really deserved each other in their cruelty. At least Tobias's aggression was predictable whereas Eileen's mood could switch from agreeableness to malice within the blink of an eye._

_Or the other way round._

_'Go to your room now, Severus,' said Eileen now, her eyes suddenly clear and her voice even. 'Priya, take him upstairs.'_

_'Why?' Severus demanded to know._

_'Because I said so,' Eileen replied calmly before her gaze grew wicked once more. 'And because I've been told that children of your age are not supposed to witness the administration of a Cruciatus Curse yet.'_

_'Mama, stop it!'_

_'Mrs. Snape, don't you think there are other means to sort out your problems?' Priya asked, trying her best to sound calming instead of patronising._

_Eileen made an irritable motion as if swatting away a fly. Compared to her hysteria of only a few moments ago, she now appeared rather calm on the outside. Her magical energy, however, told Priya a whole different story. She knew the time had come to disarm the other woman while it was still safe enough to do so. Unfortunately, it was now that Tobias Snape thought it was a good moment for him to move as well. This proved to be a mistake._

_'SECTUMSEMPRA!'_

_A second later, Tobias dropped onto his knees and screamed a high-pitched wail that sounded less human than any other cry Priya had ever heard before. Both cuffs of the man's light blue dress shirt were suddenly drenched in blood and Priya gasped. Holding her breath, she quickly drew back. Only then did she realize what the spell had actually done: above those blood-stained cuffs there was … nothing. Both of Tobias Snape's hands were gone; chopped off neatly at the wrists and now lying in front of the man's knees – limp, immobile, dead._

_'You'll never lay a hand on me again, will you, Tobias?' Eileen's question ended in a cackle as her husband continued to scream in pain, all the while holding up his arms and staring at the two stumps in utter shock and disbelief._

_'Severus, come now,' Priya said quietly._

_The small wizard, who had simply stood and stared at his father's mutilated arms until now, turned around immediately and hurled himself into Priya's arms. She lifted the boy up and Severus, who would have been indignant on any other day, clung to her fiercely. He buried his face in her neck and didn't make a sound, but the tears would come later, Priya was certain of it. Slowly, she turned around and made towards the door. She hoped that Eileen, who had now resorted to taunting her crippled husband, wouldn't notice them sneaking off, but wasn't at all surprised when she heard the witch say:_

_'And where do you think you're going, eh?'_

_'Away from here?' Priya offered lightly, but without turning around._

_'And would you kindly put my son down before you go?' Eileen replied with the same mocking friendliness – all to the soundtrack of Tobias's incoherent screams. Severus tightened his hold on Priya's neck as if he was afraid that his governess would comply, which she never would, of course. Priya walked on._

_'Put down my son, you old hag!' Eileen was back to screeching. 'Severus, come to mummy – right now!'_

_'No, I hate you!' replied her son just as crossly._

_'Severus, you get down this instant or you'll get the belt again!'_

_Severus said no more. Priya tightened her hold on the small boy reassuringly and walked on. Just a few more steps and they'd be away from these two horrible people forever._

_'A Cruciatus then!' Eileen screamed after them. Severus started to tremble and Priya stroke his back in soothing circles._

_'Don't you worry, little man,' she murmured, 'I've got you.'_

_Severus relaxed slightly, but that was only until they heard Eileen cry:_

_'CRUCIO!'_

_Whether the curse was meant for her in the first place or whether Mrs. Snape's aim was simply a little off Priya didn't know, but it spared the boy and hit her in the back instead. Smiling mildly, Priya continued her march toward the manor's front door, but Severus began to cry with fear at last._

_'STOP IT!' he screamed over Priya's shoulder, but Eileen paid no attention to her son. _

_'What the …,' she hissed instead and looked at the wand as if the wood had malfunctioned. A moment later, Priya felt magic being hurled her way – along with something else. __She turned around well in time to effortlessly catch the 250 pound heavy grandfather clock ('Piece of Muggle trash,' Eileen had once called it when Tobias couldn't hear) with her right arm, while balancing the six year old boy on her left. Both, mother and child, stared at her. Priya was grateful to notice that Severus's gaze was full of awe – tears momentarily forgotten. Eileen's face, on the other hand, curled in a mixture of disgust, fear and fury._

_'Monster!' she yelled, her voice somersaulting. 'Merlin's Beard, you're a monster!'_

_'Like you aren't!' Priya shot back. 'Or do you really think this little attack would have left Severus miraculously unhurt?' Gently, she set the big, old clock back on the ground. 'But you haven't even thought of that, have you? Or did you just not care?'_

_Even if Eileen had bothered to answer her question, Priya possibly wouldn't have heard it – the stench of Tobias's two blood fountains was almost overpowering by now. The Indian ripped open the door – as much out of desire to leave as the need to let in a whiff of fresh air. She knew she had less than a few moments left to leave Snape Manor if she didn't want to submit her young charge to Eileen's 'unsteady' wand hand once more. There really was no time to make sure whether or not there were any gardeners, house-elves or noisy neighbours around that might be watching her. She had to leave and, judging by the sudden renewed power surge of Eileen's magic, she had to leave now. But what about Tobias?!_

_Almost against her will, and with one hand still glued to the doorknob, Priya turned around to look at the young wizard that lay on the floor in a puddle of his own blood. She hadn't liked Tobias Snape any more than she had liked his unstable wife, had always thought him a coward who hid behind the strength of his – and wasn't it ironic? - fists, but was it fair to leave him behind? Wasn't there a chance to get both Severus and his father – but what about the blood, oh by Mircea's rotten offspring, all that blood! - out of harm's way?_

_Eileen used to moment of Priya's hesitation to present her with another Cruciatus Curse. Only this time she put so much conviction into the curse that it managed to shove the governess backwards and did not spare Severus either. Priya caught her balance with a double step, but Severus convulsed in her arms and cried out in agony._

_He wasn't the only one who screamed._

_'LET HIM GO!' Tobias Snape yelled, crawling towards his wife as if he still had the power to stop her. Eileen, who - until that moment - seemed to have forgotten that her husband was still in the same room, looked down her nose as and snorted dismissively – a sound stuck between annoyance and boredom. Then, she flicked her wand and casually said:_

_'Avada Kedavra.'_

_And Tobias Snape was dead._

_Eileen looked back at her son and his governess – quite calmly, almost as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened - but this time Priya didn't give her enough time for speak, let alone cast another Unforgivable. Even though the Indian knew she'd be able to get to Severus's mother and snap the young woman's neck like a twig in the blink of an eye (and without having to set the boy aside) if she chose to do so, she knew Severus had witnessed more than enough deaths for today. They – finally – had to leave! And so Priya took one step backwards out of the open door and onto the Snape's front porch, enfolded the little boy in her arms ('Hold on tight, little man.') … and rocketed into the sky._

_And before Eileen even managed to point her wand at the doorway, where Priya and Severus had stood less than a heartbeat ago, the Indian and her young charge were nothing but an infinitesimal dot on the horizon._

* * *

Two things pulled Priya Roshan from her memories. One was the sudden manifestation of magical energy behind her. It was the power of a young wizard Priya had come to know quite well over the last few months, only it seemed to have multiplied tenfold since she had last seen him. The second was the amused voice that asked:

'Reminiscing much, Priya?'

Priya turned around and regarded the wizard standing in front of her silently for a second, taking in his confident and rather dazzling appearance, and when she was certain that her next words would not be greeted with shock or disbelief, she replied: 'Time-travelling much, Harry?'

The young man chuckled lightly and then – causing _her_ some shock and disbelief – he crossed both his arms in front of his chest and bowed to her – a demure and respectful gesture that Priya had barely seen a handful of times in almost two decades now.

'Will you stop that?' she scolded Harry future self gently and he straightened up again with a smile. Then he stepped forward and kissed both her cheeks. 'Good to see you,' he said.

'It's certainly good to see you,' Priya smiled. 'I already wondered whether or not I would ever have the honour to meet you on one of your time-travels. I was about to become quite jealous of the others, I must say.'

Once more Priya was stunned by the power that this young man radiated. The sixteen year old Harry was a hothouse of magic already, but it was tamed by the mere fact that he did not have an inkling of an idea of his own power yet. This man, however, knew exactly what he was capable of. Once more she studied him silently, simply taking in his matured features, his broad shoulders, his raven hair (wispy, but lot tamer than that of that of the second Harry Potter who was riding the Hogwarts Express at this moment) and his brilliant, green eyes. Maybe it was a mere flight of fancy, but Priya thought _this_ Harry's eyes looked even wiser that of the Harry Potter of her time. They had something austere about them; they were the eyes of a young man who had seen too many things that one should never see. After all she knew that look well; had seen it every day on the boy she had raised like her own child. Thinking about Severus, her own eyes couldn't help but search out Harry's left hand. He seemed to read her thoughts and lifted it, so she could have a better look at the wedding ring that adorned his ring finger.

'Happily married for almost seven years now,' he told her and Priya laughed at his conspiratorial tone of voice.

'Congratulations,' she said warmly and Harry smiled and inclined his head in thanks before he bent down to let her kiss him. Too bad that she couldn't put his younger self's worries to rest by assuring him that she had seen evidence that there was indeed a growth spurt in store for him.

'Is Severus around?' Harry asked and Priya shook her head. 'I'm sorry, sweetheart, but everyone has left for Hogwarts this morning. I was about to leave myself, only I wanted to drop off the clock first to get it fixed … after Draco's little accident last week,' she added pointedly. Harry grinned.

'I remember that,' he said and then he went over to the old grandfather clock Priya had been about to hoist over her shoulder before she got carried away down memory lane. He opened the clock in an experienced manner that revealed that he had done this trick many a time. The constant ticking noise promptly became louder. Harry stepped inside the clock's narrow belly, bending slightly as to not bump his head and simultaneously reaching up to fiddle with the clock's mechanism.

'Who was that Lisp Spell meant for anyway and did you ever find one?' Priya asked conversationally. Inside the clock, Harry laughed. 'I could tell you but then I'd have to kill you,' he joked. 'Let's just say there was a time in his life when William Copley was a tad hard to understand.'

'See here?' he then asked her and Priya ducked her head underneath his arm to look at whatever Future Harry wanted to show her. The amount of magical energy that surrounded him should have felt overwhelming to her, but this young man was so in control of his power that Priya felt nothing but ease. The inside of the clock's head was lit with an artificial light, which Harry must have conjured up wordlessly, and she could clearly see the little spring he pointed at. 'This,' he said, 'has to go here.' He twisted the spring sideways until it latched on to some kind of hook. She and Harry emerged from the chamber Priya saw that the clock hands were again catching up with the stubborn ticking noise. 'It must have come loose when Draco butted heads with it,' Harry said. 'According the clockmaker the spring doesn't even belong there, but as you can see it's working brilliantly this way.' He asked her for the time and positioned the clock's hands accordingly. 'Mind you, the spring won't stay in place for more than a couple of weeks, but at least now you know how to fix it.'

'Can't you make it stay with magic?' Priya asked and Harry shrugged. 'Not really. This clock doesn't seem to agree with magic.'

'Figures,' Priya mumbled. 'Its owner didn't agree with magic either.'

Harry hummed in agreement. 'I like the stubborn, old lady though,' he said fondly and then, almost as if to counteract his previous words, he gave the clock two strong whacks on its right. Priya was pleased to hear the loud ticking noise dropping a good notch. 'Oh, thank goodness, the din was driving me insane! I was _this_ close to throwing the damned thing out!' she exclaimed and Harry turned around to look her in the eyes.

'Don't!' he said somberly, almost urgently, and Priya smiled. 'Don't worry, sweetheart, I was only joking. I wouldn't dare to touch your 'old lady' and Severus would never part with it. Did you know he used to hide inside the clock when he was a little boy?'

Harry looked at her oddly for a moment and she couldn't read his gaze. Then he smiled. 'I know that well,' he said. 'Make sure the clock stays here, okay? At least until -'

And, just as suddenly as he had appeared, Future Harry vanished again.

_**To be continued …**_

* * *

**Author's Note:**  
You'll get a cookie if you can guess who/what Priya is before I reveal it in the next chapters.  
Come on y'all, all the hints are there in this chaper!  
Granted, I took a bit of liberty with one of her four major characteristics, but the other three are very 'old school'. ;-)

* * *


	41. Just because you don't see it

[Dedicated to my new friends over at the Yahoo!Group "Severussighs" :-)]

Chapter 41  
"**Just because you don't see it, doesn't mean it isn't there"**

The phone rang twice before he tore himself away from the parchment for long enough to reach over to his backpack and rummage through it in search for the object of disturbance. After pulling it out from the depth of his bag, he looked at the display. Harry rolled his eyes, which then proceeded to search for the right button to press. The phone rang twice more until they had found it and Harry could swear it sounded more impatient each time.

'Yes, Draco?' he finally spoke into the bottom (he hoped) end of the phone, before he looked over his shoulder and stared pointedly at the blonde boy behind him. Draco grinned broadly.

'Honestly, Potter! Who's the Muggle here, you or me? It's the green button you have to press. Green!' he spoke into his own mobile phone.

Harry, currently lying on this stomach only a few feet away from where Draco sat leaning against a wall, turned back to his Potions homework. 'Is there something you wanted, you Muggle-device-loving creep?" he asked, phone in one hand, quill in the other. Next to him, Ginny chuckled quietly and he couldn't quite suppress a smile either. Who would have thought that Draco would turn into the next Arthur Weasley this school year?

'I'll tell father you called me that. Maybe he'll finally give you a good trashing,' the voice inside the rectangular box in Harry's hand informed him loftily.

Somewhere to his right, Ron made a choking sound and Harry wondered just how much longer it would take for Ron to truly believe that this was just Draco's way of joking and that no paddles, no whips and no dark and lonely dungeons awaited Harry upon his return to Malfoy Manor.

_He's been there. He knows._

'Really?' Harry asked interestedly. ''You mean, despite the fact that _I_ am not the son of his that's in a loving relationship with a Muggle invention?' At that, Ginny and Hermione broke into a fit of giggles.

'Tell your little Gryffindor friends to stop laughing at once, Potter.' Harry could tell his brother was trying for haughty, but there was no mistaking the smile in his voice. He turned back to look at the Slytherin once more. Draco - now grinning rather smugly at Ron - was sitting next to Neville, both of them leaning against the wall in a rather relaxed manner despite the fact that books, parchments and Muggle notepads were scattered all around them. Harry smirked. Apparently, Draco had thought that a break from their today's teamwork (Potions and Muggles Studies) was in order when he had decided to ring Harry.

Harry's little group of friends – Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna - and Draco had taken to meet in the Room of Requirement as often as possible to do their homework together, practice for their DA meetings and to just hang out. It had been Draco himself who had suggested this and for this Harry was extremely grateful. He didn't think he could survive this school year without seeing the 'real' Draco regularly; it was bad enough that he had not yet had the opportunity to see Severus outside of class ever since their return to Hogwarts two weeks ago. What pleased Harry the most was how well Draco got along with everyone. Surprisingly enough, it was Neville in particular who Draco had taken a liking to and even more surprising was that the feeling was mutual. Neville, more than anyone, seemed to 'get' Draco's sense of humour and that the insults sprouting from the Slytherin's mouth were now usually terms of endearment when directed towards a member of their little group. He didn't seem secure enough yet to tease Draco with it, but then Neville had never been the playful, teasing type. Draco seemed to respect him all the more for it and usually went easy on this particular Gryffindor with this own sarcasm.

'Anyway,' Draco said now,' 'Isn't Muggle Studies the best subject ever? Remind me, why have I not taken that class before?'

'Because it wasn't mandatory before and you are supposed to hate Muggles,' Harry replied patiently, 'and I beg to differ.' How could he agree with Draco when Muggle Studies was taught by William Copley this year? Draco, of course, ignored him.

'How amazing is it that you people have invented your own Tabulas Loquoram?' he went on. 'And it's even better than that, really, for you can even speak-'

'You people? Why do you keep referring to me as if I'm a different species than you? We're all wizards around here in case you forgot.'

'You, Potter, are a different species altogether,' Draco smirked over at him, 'but that's not the point. You've been raised by Muggles, so you're the closest thing to a Muggle I know.'

Hermione, who of course could hear every word of their conversation, looked up from her Transfiguration essay and asked Harry: 'Should I be offended?'

Harry grinned.

'Oh, but of course not, Hermione,' Draco called over, politely holding a hand over the mouth piece at the same time, much to Harry's amusement. 'I would like nothing better than to discuss Muggle Studies with a mudblood.'

'Then why don't you?' Hermione called back.

'I have no desire to be transfigured into a ferret again, thank you, and much less by a weasel.'

He grinned over at Ron, but the other boy didn't seem to recognize Draco's verbal olive branch for what it was. 'Don't call her mudblood!' he muttered instead.

'Oh, Ron!' Hermione sighed.

Draco merely grinned knowingly. Uncovering his phone again, he looked back at Harry. 'Where were we? Oh yes, Muggle Studies. Have you done your Muggle Studies homework yet, brother of mine?'

'No,' said Harry, trying for haughty himself now.

'Are you going to?'

'No!' Harry repeated, a little more hotly.

'It won't help you much to get better grades in Potions if you'll fail not only one but two subjects at the end of the year, just because Copley has been teaching them,' Draco said. His eyebrows were raised and he looked and sounded so very much like Harry imagined Lucius would look in the same situation that he felt himself blush at the mere idea of failure.

'I don't care!' he insisted nonetheless.

'You're such a child,' Draco's telephone voice chided with surprising gentleness. Then: 'Do you really want people to start calling you "the boy who lived but was as dumb as unsliced bread"?'

Harry gave his friends a lot of credit for not laughing at this remark. 'I'm hanging up,' he threatened only to hear Draco laugh in stereo.

'Why, that would be lot more mature, of course!'

'That's rich coming from a wizard who phones people who are sitting in the same room with him.'

Draco laughed appreciatively, but of course he wanted the last word. 'That's only because _you_ don't know how to use a phone, Potter. You wouldn't even know how to hang up on me.'

'I have to press the red button,' Harry said wisely and then he did just that before sitting up and carelessly tossing the phone back into his bag. 'We're brothers now,' he told Draco morosely. 'Just because you think it's wicked cool that Copley gave us all mobile phones to practice 'Muggle Life,' doesn't mean you can stop supporting me in my general dislike against my boyfriend's Ex.' He paused. 'Er, it sounds weird when I call Severus my boyfriend, doesn't it?"

His question was greeted by snickers all around.

'It kind of does,' Draco agreed with a small smirk. He got up, shook out his legs and then walked over to Harry, where he sank down into a tailor's seat. 'Severus is hardly a boy anymore in case it has slipped your notice. And I'll have you know that I _do_ support you in your little war against Copley, Potter.'

Harry nodded distractedly. 'What shall I call him then?' he asked. 'Lover sounds corny, doesn't it?'

'What's wrong with soulmate?' Hermione asked.

'Or just mate,' Neville offered.

'Future husband,' Draco grinned.

'I kinda like that one,' Harry admitted. 'Although it might be a tad too optimistic for now. And what if I don't want everyone to know about the soulmate thing? Isn't there a more casual term?'

'Partner?' Ginny suggested. The others nodded eagerly, but Harry didn't feel this was a title he had quite earned yet.

'One can hardly call us partners while I'm still in school … with him as my teacher,' he said, wrinkling his nose sceptically. The others shrugged as if they didn't share his opinion, which admittedly pleased him. Only Ron kept his eyes fastened on the book in front of him, pretending not to hear a word or their conversation, he noticed. But as long as Ron didn't go as far as insulting Severus right in front of him, Harry didn't mind. He knew that if their roles were reversed and Ron were the one to have fallen in love with their hated Potions master instead, he'd have a hard time dealing with it, too.

_Imagine Ron fell in love with Copley! Urgh. _

No, it was enough for Harry that his closest friends all knew about his new life now and, for the most part, seemed to accept it all with good grace. He was so glad that he had been able to tell them! He remembered how, during that last night at Malfoy Manor, he had asked Severus about just how much he was allowed to reveal to his classmates, a few selected ones at least, about their soulmate bond. Severus had regarded him silently for a moment and then grunted: 'Well, I do suppose treachery is not among a Gryffindor's many character flaws. Ouch. Physical violence against an authority person obviously is."

Harry smiled at the memory. It had pleased him immensely that Severus apparently thought him old and responsible enough to decide this on his own. Granted, it did surprise him a little how much freedom Severus and Lucius, despite all their worries and demands for secrecy, had ended up giving him in making the decision of who or who not to let in on the secret of his new family. As adamant as they were about certain things like maintaining their hateful masks in public, as nonchalant they were about others. On some days this would puzzle him a bit, because it was almost as if Lucius and Severus knew things that he didn't, but on most days he found he couldn't be arsed to care if that were indeed the case. He had a father now who took interest in his book lists and expected him to do well at school (although Harry did hope Lucius didn't place too much importance on Muggle Studies and Divination), he had a mother who liked to cuddle him and say things like 'I'm going to miss you, sweetie' and a brother who'd give his wand arm for him, if necessary. His cupboard days were over and his soulmate didn't hate him. He didn't need anything more than that! And if Severus left important decisions like this to him, then maybe he _did_ consider Harry a worthy partner already. In that case, Harry thought he'd do well to repay his trust in kind.

'Partners,' he said quietly, trying the word out on his tongue. 'You know what, I think I _do_ like that.'

The girls smiled fondly and Draco rolled his eyes. Ron mumbled something and they all turned to look at him.

'What did you say, Ron?' Harry asked.

'Nothing,' Ron muttered. Harry shrugged and probably would have returned to his Potions homework (He _did_ have every intention to impress his Potions master with his essay on the Fire Protection Potion!), if Hermione and Draco hadn't both snapped at Ron in unison a second later.

'What did you say, Ron?'

'I beg your pardon, Weaselbee?'

Draco had refrained from addressing Ron in such a tone for weeks now and Harry looked up in surprise.

'Well, this whole thing is a joke, isn't it?' Ron exploded. 'Harry and Snape!' He sounded defensive, but did not meet Harry's eyes. 'When has the old git ever been less than horrible to Harry?'

Draco took a deep breath, but Harry shook his head and so he closed his mouth again and let Harry reply instead: 'Every time I'm alone with him if you must know.'

'What kind of relationship is that?' Ron scoffed. 'And I'm not even mentioning the fact that he is, like, fifty years older than you. Gods, Harry! He treats you like dirt in public and when you're alone you're soulmates? It's a joke!'

'Ron!' Hermione said loudly, banging her Transfiguration book shut. 'You know damn well that Snape is treating Harry the way he does in order to protect him.'

'Them both,' Draco corrected though clenched teeth.

'Voldemort is the excuse for everything, isn't he?' asked Ron and Harry flinched. 'He's the reason why your new, so-called parents treat you like the boy who is invisible outside of Malfoy Manor. He's the reason why your supposed soulmate treats you like vermin, he's the reason for …'

'If Voldemort isn't a good enough reason for you, then I can't see what would be!' Harry interrupted his red-haired friend loudly.

'Has Snape _ever_ told you that he loved you?' Ron yelled back.

'THAT'S NONE OF YOUR BLOODY BUSINESS!'

'WELL, HAS HE?!'

'Well, yes … no … not with those words exactly,' Harry spluttered. 'But … he doesn't need to say it, I know that he does.'

'Because you're such an expert on the bloody subject, of cou-' Ron didn't get to finish his sentence, because his face was suddenly frozen in a rather ugly grimace. Unable to move his mouth or even blink, the redhead's hands flew up to his face in a panic before he turned to glare at Draco.

'Wicked spell, Draco!' Ginny complimented.

'Thank you. A partial stunning spell, perfect for stopping people from sprouting nonsense.'

'No kidding,' Ginny replied, still sounding deeply impressed. 'I have six brothers, so this could come in handy. Can you teach me? Now?'

'I'd be happy to,' Draco nodded and both of them got up and started to walk off, completely ignoring Ron who was still fingering his lips as if that would make them move again.

Harry sighed. 'At least the spell off Ron first, Draco.'

'No.'

Hermione frowned. 'Do take it off, Draco. Please.'

Irritably, Draco aimed his wand at Ron, muttering the reversal spell. 'Another remark like that and I'll stun a part of your anatomy that would be the cause of much greater embarrassment than that big mouth of yours usually is,' he hissed when Ron's vocal chords had successfully taken up their work again. Ron stood up, still rubbing his throat, and glared back at him.

'Just because you're Harry's brother now, doesn't mean I can't care about him too, Malfoy!'

'You have a strange way of showing how much you care for your friends," Draco sneered.

'And yours is better?' Ron snapped. 'Harry's your best mate _and_ your brother and yet you never grow tired of making fun of his height or his glasses or his scar or … shall I go on?!'

Draco closed his mouth again. For once the Slytherin seemed to have reached the bottom of his comeback well and Harry used the opportunity to ask:

'Hello? Can you please stop talking about me as if I wasn't right next to you?'

But his request fell on deaf ears.

'That's _teasing_ him.' Draco said at last. 'I gave up trying to hurt him a long time ago and you know that, Weasley!'

'Yeah, I know,' Ron said. 'And I know that what I said to Harry just now _was_ hurtful and I apologize for that!' He finally looked at Harry. 'I'm sorry, Harry,' he said earnestly. 'It came out wrong and I didn't mean it that way. But I worry about you, all right? We all do, but of course I'm the arse again, because I'm the only one who actually says it out loud. We all have seen what living with the Dursleys did to you. Do you think we never noticed how you always came out of the summer holidays a lot paler and skinnier than you went in? Do you think we've forgotten the bars they put in front of your window that summer when the twins and I stole my dad's car to get you out of there?'

'If you have noticed all that, then I'm sure it hasn't escaped your notice that my parents did not put bars in front of Harry's room in our house,' Draco said, shoving both of his hands deep into the pockets of his school robes. 'Nor can it have escaped your notice that Harry returned to Hogwarts well-fed and healthy this year.'

'I _have_ noticed,' said Ron.

Harry sighed_. _Moving to stand next to Draco, he asked: 'Then what is your point, Ron? I accept your apology and I appreciate that you're worrying about me, but you're not making an awful lot of sense at the moment.'

'My point,' Ron said almost pleadingly, 'is that we had to watch you living with people who saw you as a burden for long enough.'

Harry stopped himself from flinching at his friend's words by wrapping both his arms around his chest. A reply he had not. Draco, however, did. Before anyone could stop him, the Slytherin had drawn his wand and pointed it at Ron once more. 'How dare you imply that my parents view Harry as a burden? How dare you imply that you know anything about our family, Weasley?'

Ron drove both his hands through his red hair, making it stand up on ends.

'Get off my back, Malfoy!' he yelled, all the while eying Draco's wand nervously. 'You weren't there when Harry tried to burn a dozen Soulmate books after finding out that he had a soulmate who didn't want him then! You didn't see how that devastated him! You didn't have to watch your best friend silently resign to the fact that he would die in only a couple of months without his supposed mate giving a Kneazle's arse about it! You didn't spend week after week wanting to stop time, so Harry's sixteenth birthday would never come!'

Draco lowered his wand.

'You didn't spend week after week hoping and praying that the books got it all wrong and that Harry didn't have a soulmate anyway; rather wishing that your best friend would live without love for the rest of his life, but at least be ALIVE, instead of dying from having a soulmate who hated him! And don't tell me that Snape didn't hate Harry! He did; he hated his guts! _You_ hated his guts, Malfoy! Your parents hated his guts! Do you even know that your father once tried to have Harry killed? And he wasn't beyond offing Ginny either, just so he could get his wish!'

'Leave me father out of this,' Draco snarled without much venom, but Ron wasn't finished yet.

'And now, just because some mythical, random soulmate bond dictates that Severus and Harry have to love each other, him and your family are being all chummy with Harry! But that isn't real! That isn't what love is! It's not much different from the Dursleys, who only took Harry in because he - much to their dismay - happened to be of the same blood.'

'Just because a bond between two hearts just _is_, does not make it random,' Luna suddenly chimed in. 'Something that cannot be explained by anyone is not less real than something that can be. Nobody knows why Nargles exist and yet they're there.'

'Hear hear,' Ginny said quietly.

Harry closed his eyes for a moment. Ron's words had stung badly, but he couldn't even be angry with his friend. All Ron had done was giving a voice to Harry's own worst fears and doubts. But he wasn't ready to deal with that part of Ron's monologue just yet and so, like Draco, he seized on something else:

'Draco's right,' he said to Ron, 'please leave Lucius out of this.'

Ron stared. 'Is that all you have to say?'

Harry shook his head. 'No, but you seem to think I'm stupid enough to let myself be adopted by a man who didn't have a satisfying explanation for wanting me dead not too long ago.'

'You never told me that you've spoken to Lucius Malfoy about this!'

'Oh, stop whinging already, Weasley,' Draco retorted. 'He hasn't told me this either.' Pointedly, he looked at Harry.

'No, I haven't told you,' Harry told Ron, 'and there will be other things about my life with the Malfoys or Snape that I won't tell you. Yet. And yes, once again Voldemort is my only excuse! Do you think _I _am happy with that? Do you think I'm happy with that fucker ruling my entire life, from the moment he killed my real parents up until controlling the lives of my surrogate ones today?'

Ron looked down. ''Course not,' he said.

'Once the time is right, Lucius will apologize to your family. But for now that is a courtesy that could cost him his life! Just imagine if your father mentioned Lucius' apology to the wrong person at the Ministry.'

'Dad wouldn't!' Ron protested indignantly.

'Maybe not, but that is a risk that Lucius cannot afford to take,' Harry answered. 'And surely you don't see anything wrong with him wanting to protect himself and his family, do you? _My_ family,' he added, as much for himself as for Ron. 'Lucius and Narcissa have already risked so much only by inviting you and Hermione to Malfoy Manor just to make it easier for the two of you to accept them as my parents.'

'How is it dangerous to two Death Eaters to invite two harmless fifth-years?' Ron mumbled.

It was Hermione who answered for Harry. 'Do we know for sure which of our fellow students have been trained in Legilimency by their parents? Neither you nor I know Occlumency and so all it would take is for a Death Eater's child to read our minds and find out about our visit to the Manor and the fact that the Malfoys are Harry's family now, report it back to their parents and …,' her voice trailed off meaningfully.

For a while nobody said anything until Ron broke the silence.

'If that is true, then why are _you_ taking such a risk of joining our DA lessons or study group all the time?' he asked Draco. 'Or, better yet, why is Snape letting you do it?'

Harry turned to look at Draco as well. _That_ was something he wanted to hear, too. Draco noticed and looked back at him. His eyebrows rows enquiringly before a small frown appeared between them. After a moment he shrugged.

'I met a Centaur and he told me the future!' he cooed mysteriously.

Ginny chuckled. 'And was that before or after he broke your arm and you had to ask your father to execute him?' she asked, smiling sweetly.

Smiling back just as sweetly, Draco replied: 'And why don't _you_ go and tell the Centaurs how pretty they look?'

_**To be continued**_

**Author's Note:  
**_I blatantly stole Draco's last line from an avatar I found ages ago and have long forgotten who it was from. That line's absolutely smashing though and I've been dying for a chance to use it for over two years now ;-)._

_Once again, I apologize for the long, long, long wait. You will probably not believe me when I say it's mostly due to the fact that I accidentally killed my computer a few months ago – and with it many, many private photos and movies and, of course, the almost finished chapter 40 – but I swear it's true. If I could have Crucio'd myself, I would have, believe me. So I had to re-write everything and although I did mean for this chapter to be longer, I did not want you to have to wait even longer for it, so I made a cut here and the rest will have to go into the next chapter. London's finally coming up for our little group of friends, so that should be interesting._

_Thank you for the many, many wonderful reviews and emails I have received in the last few months. Thank you for waiting, for worrying, for motivating, for nagging and for kicking my butt. I appreciate it more than I can say._

_Oh, and I know I meant to reveal what kind of creature Priya is in this chapter. Sorry it didn't come to it yet. Many of you got it right and if you are one of them, I have told you so already in my review reply :-). The ones who guessed "Genie" (surprisingly many readers) were wrong, however, and Priya's nationality has nothing to do with what she is either._

_By the way, doesn't it suck that TWILIGHT comes out here in Germany only in January?_

_*toddles off*_


	42. All The Plans

_* * *_

_**For Krishna … as a different kind of vacation.**_

_*** * ***_

_**Author's Notes:**_

_Thanks a million to WhiteCotton over at Severus*Sighs* for providing me with every single one of the ingenious book/essay titles mentioned in this chapter. I asked for one, she gave me five … and I re-wrote to accommodate them all, because they were too good to pass them up._

_Thanks also to Starsailor for providing the musical inspiration as well as a title for this chapter, when I couldn't come up with one for the life of me.  
Their new album "All The Plans" is out now. Check it out!_

* * *

Chapter 42  
"**All the Plans"**

Severus skimmed the first page of Maleveo Leant's 'Liquidus Crucio', then he skimmed the second. He stopped mid-page on the third and put the book aside. Stoically, he reached for 'Malus Quo Potieo by Diabolus Lucifus', opened it at random and let his eyes travel over the pages for a good twenty seconds before putting it to the side as well. This process was repeated with 'Mind-Altering Potions by Iain Sane' before Severus finally got up, put the book away and stalked over to his mahogany desk. There _was_ a pile of seventh years' essays ('An Analysis of Fairy Bile') on it that all but begged him to be marked and yes, he _did_ contemplate this option for a second … before deciding he could use a drink instead.

Yes, Severus Snape was bored.

Of course he'd be hard-pressed to admit it. Potions Masters didn't do fidgety, thank you very much. Just like they didn't do pining over their students.

_A_ student.

And yet he was alarmingly grateful, when a knock on the door interrupted his productive … _yes, keep telling yourself that, Severus!_ …. idleness. Pointedly ignoring the knowing smirk on the Sphinx that guarded the entrance to his personal quarters, he opened the door with flourish, to find his godson standing on the other side of the portrait hole … with a smile that resembled that of the Sphinx far too much for Severus's liking. Nevertheless, he ignored that, too.

'What do you want?' he asked gruffly, opening the door to let the young Slytherin walk by just the same.

'I'm bored,' Draco said, simultaneously presenting a chessboard. 'Let's be bored together.'

'Presumptuous much?'

Grinning, Draco walked over to the little coffee table and picked up the haphazard stack of books that Severus had looked through just minutes before. Looking down on the topmost tome, he read: "Encyclopaedia of Stirring Rods, Vol XII: M-P …" He looked over at Severus and raised an eyebrow in perfect imitation of the older man.

'Bored much?'

Groaning, he discarded the heavy pile on the floor next to the sofa. Then, followed by another little grunt, he picked up the now empty coffee table and carried it a few feet until it stood in front of one of the two armchairs. Severus hid a smile. Pureblood wizards were known to rarely lift a finger where they could use a wand instead, but ever since Harry, who took the "No magic outside of school" rule rather seriously, had moved in with the Malfoys, Draco was using his _physical_ power more and more often. When the Slytherin needed to push the second armchair closer to the coffee table, however, he seemed to remember that he had once owned a wand.

'Wingardium Leviosa", he said with a swish and a flick, and the cumbrous armchair floated into its intended spot. Draco sat down and busily set up the board. When all the figures had scrambled to their respective places, he looked at the older man expectantly.

'Oh, come on, Severus,' he said eventually, when the other still made no move to join him. 'A very reliable source told me that you and Potter haven't seen each other for almost three weeks now - Potions classes and throwing each other lovesick glances in the Great Hall not counting.' He snickered at his own joke and was not at all intimidated by Severus's death glare. 'The same very reliable source – and I'm not allowed to name names, but he's got impossibly green eyes and really needs a hair cut -' Here, Severus's glare morphed into a warm albeit small smile before he finally sat down opposite his godson. '- told me that Potter is not at all pleased with this turn of events and is, quite frankly, bored out of his skull.'

'You are quoting your source, of course.'

'But of course,' Draco grinned. 'And I'm also quoting my source when I say that Potter is, by now, driving the entire Gryffindor Tower nuts with his constant need to be kept occupied. ('I wonder where he got _that_ need from,' Severus muttered dryly.) And when _Potter_ is irritable and bored, I can only imagine what _you_ are.' Here, that blasted knowing smile was back, but Severus's mind was elsewhere.

'But he is all right, is he not?'

It was more than obvious that his godson had yet another witty remark ready and waiting, but then Draco must have seen something in his eyes that caused him to swallow down his joke and reply with equal earnestness instead. 'Of course he is all right, Severus. I'd be hitting this chess board over your head right about now if he wasn't, you can be sure of that. But …'

'But?' Severus enquired.

'But … and don't tell him I told you this! … he said that he's almost hoping to feel the pain of your separation again soon, just so you make some time for him.'

'That blasted Gryffindor!' Severus exploded. 'Does he really think we don't see each other, because I don't have _time _for him? Oh, Merlin's purple socks! If he wants to see me, then why does he not come down here? I cannot remember him ever having any scruples to make use of that Godforsaken Invisibility Cloak in the past!'

'So you would let him in?' Draco asked interestedly.

'Of course I would let him in!'

'Even if he wanted to spend the night?'

'You can wipe that dirty grin off your face, junior, for that is a whole different story!' Severus huffed. 'But of course I would not send him away! At least not right away,' he amended when Draco's smirk had not yet disappeared. After a little pause in which none of them spoke, Severus exploded once more.

'That imbecilic little dunderhead! Why in Salazar's name would he think that pining away in secret and annoying Gryffindors is preferable over coming down here?'

Draco shrugged. 'Oh, I don't know. Maybe for the same reason that you think pining away in secret and annoying Slytherins is preferable over _inviting _him down here?'

'I do _not_ pine away!' Severus responded automatically. But it didn't take long for him to reconsider. 'Well, I suppose,' he said, looking down on his hands, 'that one _could_ accuse me of the same foolish behaviour. I _do_ miss the little runt. A little bit.'

Draco leaned back in his chair. Stretching his legs from him and putting his right hand in the pocket of his school robes, he grinned at Severus rather smugly. 'There. That wasn't so difficult, was it?'

Severus snorted. 'Well, what is _your_ excuse for visiting your old godfather in these evening hours usually so precious to you students? Don't you have something more fun to do? You do spend a fair amount of time among Gryffindors these days, do you not?'

Draco's face fell, although Severus doubted anyone else would have noticed, and he shrugged non-committally.

'Hmm.'

'Did you and your brother have a fight already?' asked Severus, lacing the last word with much incredulity, which Draco wiped away with a snort.

'One? Many. But none of them serious enough to scare him away, don't worry.'

'Then what is the problem?'

'The problem,' lamented Draco, 'is that Gryffindors are _fun_.'

He elaborated before Severus could say anything. 'It's like this: Gryffindors compete to get better. Slytherins compete to feel superior. Gryffindors make fun of each other. Slytherins make fun of everyone who they feel superior to, which is just about ninety-nine percent of the world's population. Gryffindors study Dark Arts to help my brother in killing the Dark Lord. Slytherins study Dark Arts to help the Dark Lord in killing my brother.

'Do they now?' Severus asked. '_All_ Slytherins?'

Draco sighed. 'No, of course not. But all Slytherins I pretend to be friends with, they do. That's the kind of Slytherin I represent, Severus! It's how everyone thinks I am.'

'Everyone?' Severus asked again.

'No, not everyone!' Draco huffed. 'But … oh, for Merlin's sake, Severus, can't I be allowed to mope and wallow in self-pity for once? I'm related to Harry Potter now, so dramatizing things should be my prerogative.'

Severus smiled, unwilling to show how much Draco's unhappiness worried him. But it seemed that now wasn't the right time to remind his godson of his duties and obligations as a Malfoy and so he didn't interrupt again, when Draco continued his rant:

'Not all Slytherins are evil and stupid and ignorant, you don't need to tell me that. But the ones who are not can't be my friends, because I cannot be seen associating with anyone who doesn't kiss the hem of Voldemort's robes. Nor would _those_ Slytherins _want_ to be friends with me, because to them I'm the worst of the lot. And others, like Zabini or Nott, only _pretend_ to be my friends, because they only pretend to be evil gits like me. I'm tired of pretending, Severus! I'm tired of my father's 'No friends' rule! I'm tired of being this … this … poster boy for Death Eater offsprings! I'm tired of being one of the main reasons why people dislike Slytherins. I'm tired of pretending it's going to be wicked fun to kneel at the Dark Lord's feet one day and feed him Harry Potter's heart in small pieces. It was fun when pretending was the only thing I knew, but I'm no longer a child and this is no longer a game! Harry Potter is my brother now. His friends are my friends now. They are being nice to me! And they don't pretend! They never pretend, Severus! Granted, some of them may only be nice to me out of respect for Harry, but I'm sure some of them like me for real!'

Severus's heart all but broke at the childish enthusiasm in Draco's voice, but he didn't show it.

'And how do I repay them?' Draco asked. 'I stand there and smirk whenever Crabbe is making lewd remarks about Granger or when Goyle is talking about how his father is going to cut Harry's head off with a Muggle knife,' – Severus snorted contemptuously – 'or when Pansy and Zabini are playing pranks on Neville … or even Weasley, for crying out loud, and I still don't even like the git.' Draco groaned. 'For Merlin's sake, listen to me, Severus. Hanging out with those bloody Gryffindors made me go soft in the head, I swear.'

'And in the heart,' Severus agreed, but he didn't say it out loud. Draco didn't need that either. The Potions Master knew Lucius's son well enough to know when real sadness lay underneath his comedic antics. Despite what other people might think of him, Draco had long grown out of the habit of complaining for show. If one positive thing had come out of his friendship with Harry, then it was the fact that it had quenched Draco's constant need for attention almost completely. But how was he supposed to help his godson apart from lending his ear? What could he possibly do?

As if Draco had heard the other man's silent question, he suddenly said: 'Don't worry, Severus. I'm not going to ask your permission to change my ways. Just … just do me a favour and ask Future Harry next time just how much longer we will have to wait until _our_ Harry finally kills Voldie, okay?'

Severus nodded, a small smile playing at his lips.

_Voldie?!_

'I will do that, Draco.'

'Thank you,' Draco nodded as well. Then, quite suddenly, he pulled his hand from the pocket of his robes. Severus saw that he was holding his Tabulas Loquoram. Draco glanced at it and then he got up. 'Well, I'll spare you more of my whining,' he said and began to pack up the unused game.

'Draco …,' Severus began, but his godson waved him off with a smile. 'I'm okay, Severus, I just needed to vent. Really! Besides … you have more important things to do now.' He stepped in front of the Sphinx, who opened the portrait hole with a small nod of her head. Severus was too surprised to see the wink she bestowed on his godson.

'I do?' he asked. 'And what would that be?'

Draco snickered. 'You'll figure something out, I'm sure.' He waved once more before the portrait hole closed again.

* * *

Shivering, Harry wrapped himself even tighter into his Invisibility Cloak. 'Come on now,' he whispered, shifting impatiently from one foot to the other. He checked his Tabulas Loquoram once more, but it still showed the words he had written on it earlier:

"_Standing right outside."_

But then, after what seemed like an eternity to Harry (_The dungeons really are quite draughty, aren't they?_), the portrait hole in front of him opened and Draco came walking out. 'You'll figure something out, I'm sure,' he called over his shoulder and waved before he turned back around.

'All yours,' he whispered in the direction he suspected Harry to be standing in.

'Thanks,' Harry whispered back and briefly touched his brother's arm before he slipped inside Severus's quarters as the portrait began to close. Severus stood with his back to him and as Harry tip-toed closer, he could see that the other man was pouring himself a drink. When his glass was full, Severus put the bottle aside and began to raise the drink to his lips … but then his arm stopped midway. A few seconds passed before the teacher put the firewhisky back down abruptly and whirled around.

'WHO'S THERE?!"

Ignoring he fluttering of his heart, Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak off his head. 'Tadaaa!', he said, grinning like the Cheshire Cat and feeling like an idiot in the next moment. 'Draco wrote that you wanted to see me.'

He pulled the cloak further off his shoulders and threw it over the back of Severus's velvet couch (hoping he looked mighty suave doing so). He knew there was nothing to be done about his electrically charged hair, but Harry hoped Severus would at least appreciate his outfit. After all he was wearing the smart white shirt with long sleeves and navy pinstripes that the older man had eyed with particular interest the day Narcissa had bought new clothes for him and a matching pair of snugly-fitting blue jeans that Draco had assured Harry he was filling out "surprisingly well for such a scrawny little git".

The Potions Master had not yet said anything, but the way he was staring at Harry was so intense that the boy had to turn away, flushing. 'I always wondered what your quarters would look like,' he said as he looked around.

'I do hope you approve,' the Potions Master finally spoke. He sounded rather wooden, but Harry knew that this wasn't due to anger - Severus's eyes had spoken volumes! And then, somehow, Harry understood, no, he _felt_ that his mate was as nervous as he was. Bravely, he put the picture frame he was currently holding back into its place on the mantelpiece and turned around with a smile.

''Course I do,' he said warmly as he stepped in front of the other man. 'And do you know what I like best about them?'

'I shall hope it's the vast amount of books,' quipped Severus, apparently retaining his composure. 'But that would be tad too optimistic, would it not?'

Harry rolled his eyes. 'Actually I was going to say "You standing in them" or something equally sappy, but thank you for ruining my first ever attempt at being romantic.'

Severus swallowed. 'You're welcome,' he said. Then: 'Sorry.'

'It's quite all right. You can make it up to me by kissing me,' Harry suggested graciously.

And to Harry's surprise, Severus really did.

Instantly, Harry felt his legs turn to jelly and he had to wrap his arms around the other man to stay standing. When Harry's kisses became more and more urgent, however, Severus pulled back.

'Harry,' he said. 'We should not do this. It's … inappropriate.'

Severus's mouth twisted at this last word as if he was fighting the Imperius Curse, which gave Harry enough confidence to argue. 'No, it's not. I'm sixteen now, Severus, and I really want this.'

He closed the unbearable distance between them by wrapping his arms around the taller man's neck once more. 'And although I'm not as good as you are with the whole soulmate mind-reading stuff yet, I know you want it, too.'

'You don't have to be a mind-reader to figure _that _out,' Severus muttered just when Harry bumped into his erection.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise when he felt the hardness against his own and for a moment he was torn between the desire to gasp or to giggle. In the end, he settled for pressing his himself even closer.

'We're at school,' Severus tried, but his sensible words ended in a lust-filled groan when Harry's hips gave an experimental rock.

'I know,' Harry grinned. 'Isn't that exciting?' He rocked against Severus again and the man gasped, but somehow managed to extricate himself from Harry's embrace. 'We need to stop!' he said, trying to convince himself as much as Harry. 'We are at school and here I am your teacher. Your guardian. Your -'

'Mate.' Harry interrupted firmly. 'You're still my mate!'

'Yes,' Severus said. His voice was now full of love and this time it was he who closed the gap between them by reaching out a hand for Harry to hold. 'I'm your mate first and foremost, Harry, but here at school I'm _also_ your teacher. It is my _job_ to be your teacher. I get _paid_ to be your teacher.'

Harry smirked. 'Then today must be your lucky day, Professor, because I can think of at least twenty things you could teach me right now and none of them even requires a cauldron or-, ' he glanced at the pile of books next to the couch, 'an "Encyclopaedia of Stirring Rods".'

'Aren't I lucky indeed?' Severus asked dryly. But apparently Harry's argument had convinced him, because the teacher suddenly pulled him close and all but crushed Harry's lips with his own. For long moments they kissed each other fiercely and Severus did not stop his assault until Harry broke back gasping for air.

'Wow! I- I like your- your way of teaching, Professor.' Impatiently, Harry began to pull at Severus's robes, but the older man stilled his hands with his own.

'Easy, Harry,' Severus said. 'I may want this as much as you do, but I will not have sex with you while we're at school. Not until you're fifty-eight and I'm long retired anyway.' he added as an afterthought and Harry laughed.

'Fine! Just kiss me again, okay?' he asked, still at little breathlessly and not caring how needy he must sound. 'We don't have to go all the way, but I _really_ need to kiss you.'

Severus smiled.

'In that case I'm thinking today's first lesson today shall be 'How to have fun while your clothes stay on.'

* * *

A wave of excitement and anticipation coiled down the moving staircase, nauseating Severus with its intensity even before he heard the source of such intense emotions – a bunch of wizard teenagers, what else?! – trampling downstairs and into the Entrance Hall like a horde of piqued centaurs. It was four o' clock in the morning and on any other day the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts would have been rather quiet and deserted still, with the exception of the house elves responsible for preparing the breakfast inside the adjoining Great Hall.

Severus all but sighed.

Three dozen Sixth Years were bad enough confined within the wards of a magical boarding school. To let them loose in Muggle London would probably result in … well, the equivalent to a Muggle nuclear war, most likely. Severus, who had been assigned to supervise the students' departure together with Minerva and William Copley, watched their gathering silently and, frankly, with not much interest. And whatever interest he had, of course, had little to do with supervision, but everything with trying to spot his undersized Intended among the crowd.

Then, however, his attention was drawn to a rather peculiar sight: A student usually known for his anxiousness not to draw anyone's attention onto himself – least of all _his_, Severus knew – was now, none too gently, pushing his way to the front. Neville Longbottom was so tall by now that his head and shoulders protruded easily from the small crowd and Severus was so fascinated by the sight of the usually so gentle and soft-spoken Gryffindor elbowing people out of his way ('Oh, do shut up, Finnigan!'), that he realized that Longbottom was pulling someone along only when Harry Potter appeared next to Neville at the front line. And although Severus did notice with some satisfaction that Longbottom still couldn't bring himself to quite meet his eyes, the Gryffindor did look surprisingly smug in such close proximity to his Potions Master - an effect that wasn't ruined even when Harry shoved his elbow into the other boy's rips – hard. The smaller boy scowled up momentarily and the other rolled his eyes in return, but then seemed to school his features into a neutral position. Before Severus could even begin to ponder Longbottom's odd behaviour, Harry's eyes met his and began to twinkle like two emeralds in the sun.

Severus straightened unnoticeably and used up half his will-power not to smile back foolishly or otherwise draw attention to the fact that he was oh so suddenly happy to be where he was – even at this ungodly hour and no coffee within reach. He did, however, afford a nervous twitch to affect his right eye once, hoping that Harry would interpret it as something other than a tell-tale sign of dire irritation. And so Harry did, if the delighted grin was anything to go by, but luckily the boy had enough of a mind to quickly hide it by looking down and fiddling with the zipper of his hooded cardigan. But then, suddenly, his head snapped back up and he stared darkly in Severus's direction. Severus blinked in surprise, but his silent question was answered immediately, when William Copley appeared at his left, nudging Severus good-naturedly. When he also leaned in to whisper 'Good morning, Severus! It's been quite a few years since I last saw you up at this hour of the night, hasn't it?', Harry's eyes took on the colour of wet moss. And even though Severus knew the surrounding chatter of his peers had made it impossible for Harry to hear Copley's suggestive remark and the ridiculous emphasis the teacher had put on the word "up", the boy's stance changed. Severus could practically feel every muscle in Harry's body tensing - a predator waiting for the right moment to close in on his unsuspecting prey. And although he was slightly irritated by the fact that Harry _still_ had not learned to cover up his emotions, Severus could not deny that he was flattered, too. Also, the sight of a possessive soulmate was incredibly … sexy. However, the Potions Master did not mean to provoke his young mate and so he ignored the sudden twitching in his groin and swiftly stepped aside to put some distance between him and Copley.

'Have you come to me for a reason, William, or are you quite satisfied with mocking me and my morning routine?'

Copley chuckled. 'Ah! Let bygones be bygones, huh?'

'Indeed,' replied Severus coldly. And when he saw Minerva beginning the head-count, he gladly seized the opportunity to step away even further. 'Now if you would help me do _your_ job ...? I don't have all day.'

This seemed to remind William Copley of something. 'Now _that _is why I came to you, actually,' he grinned. 'We will leave to London sans young Draco Malfoy today, it seems.'

'Why?' Severus demanded. Already, his eyes began to scan the students for the one in question.

'Apparently, Mr. Malfoy has suddenly been affected by an upset stomach and now feels quite unable to join us on our little venture,' William replied and Severus could barely restrain his anger at the badly faked concern and complete lack of regret in the other man's voice. Just because William Copley wasn't man enough to handle any rebellious students of his (and Severus knew Draco had gone out of his way to belong in this category), did not mean he could happily neglect his duties as their custodian.

He bit back a scathing reply when he finally found Draco, much to his surprise, not in the front but only the second row of students, almost completely hidden behind Millicent Bulstrode, who was currently yawning so widely that Severus would have been able to see her tonsils, had he not been so preoccupied.

Draco looked dreadful.

Although the young Slytherin looked down on the floor, it was easy to see how pale the boy's face was, save from a few red blotches on his cheeks.

'Draco,' Severus addressed him not without concern, 'why are you not in the infirmary yet?'

Draco's eyes flew upwards at the tone of his voice only to dart to his left immediately, almost feverishly. Severus followed his gaze and found Neville Longbottom frowning – yes, almost glaring! - back at his godson.

'I wi- will in go in a minute, Professor,' Draco stammered. 'O- only I had hoped that maybe I would feel better soon, so I cou- could still go to London.

A few students chuckled quietly – probably because it was obvious that the only place Draco would be going to today was the infirmary. Chuckling even quieter, William Copley strolled over to Minerva who had summoned him to help her with a single warning glare.

Severus wondered whether he could hex him with Burning Boils unnoticed.

'Nonsense,' he snapped at Draco instead. 'You're practically swaying on your feet. See Madame Pomfrey immediately. Mr. Goyle, you will escort Mr. Malfoy to the infirmary.'

'No!' Draco protested, his voice at least two octaves higher than usual. 'He doesn't have to! I can go on my own!'

Gregory grinned. 'Come on, Malfoy, you know you want an _escort_ as pretty as _me_.' He batted his eyelashes and, good-naturedly, put an arm around the other Slytherin as he began to trod up the stairs.

'No, really, it's okay!' Draco squeaked. But he seemed to realized that he had little chance to escape the much stronger boy at his side and so – after one last panicked look back over his shoulder into Harry's general direction – he accepted his fate and shuffled along miserably.

Frowning, Severus looked after him. Why in the world was his godson behaving like Pygmy Puff?!

Later, Severus Snape would tell himself that _this_ would have been the exact moment where he would have recognized the situation for the devious ploy it was, had Harry Potter not chosen _this_ moment to demonstrate … his saucy side.

While most of the students were oblivious to it due to their scrambling into an orderly line in order to be counted by Professor McGonagall and Professor Copley, so that they could finally be on their way to London, Severus, for one, did hear Harry Potter clearing his throat - loudly. Meaningfully. And so he glanced over and … stared.

Harry was slowly – excruciatingly so - opening the zipper of his black cardigan. And although his young mate wasn't looking at him, the small smile that was playing at his lips made it clear to Severus that this little spectacle was meant for him – and _only_ for him. Transfixed, Severus's eyes followed the zipper's path to the the bottom until, finally, the cardigan opened and revealed a bright pink t-shirt underneath. There was some kind of logo sprawled across Harry's chest in bold Arial letters and still partly hidden by the cardigan on either side.

Written on Harry's T-shirt was "_**ER'S PE**__". _

* * *

_Lily inched closer, so that she could continue to look at the drawing now in his hands. 'Is that him?' she whispered. 'Is that your soulmate, Severus?'_

_After Sirius Black had flooded the halls of Hogwarts with copies of his damning love letter to James, every single person (dead or alive) at their school knew about Severus's conviction to have a soulmate. It had been on top of every gossip list for a couple of weeks and then, luckily, most students had lost interest. The idea of Severus Snape loving and being loved was just too out of this world for most of them, apparently._

_And that was just as well for Severus._

_Even though he knew that Lily was probably the only person at Hogwarts who believed that even an unsightly and unfriendly boy like him could have a soulmate – yes, even _deserved _to have one – Severus had forbidden her to ever talk to him about this subject. And, surprisingly, she never had – until now._

_Severus could only nod._

'_It's not James,' he repeated, flushed with embarrassment. 'I know he looks an awful lot like him, but it's not supposed to be him. I swear.'_

'_Severus, I have eyes. I can see the difference,' Lily said matter-of-factly and much to his surprise. Looking over his shoulder, she studied the picture thoughtfully. It was the portrait of a male teenager, about their age, with dark hair that looked every bit as windblown as that of James Potter, and probably withstood every non-magical effort of its owner to tame it. He was wearing round spectacles that looked very much like the pair on James Potter's nose, but that was where the similarities ended. This boy's features were softer than James's and had a much more childlike quality to them; his jaw not quite so chiselled and his smile open and trusting. The boy was wearing a comfortable looking albeit rather large sweater with a hood and a zipper up front, under which the patch of a t-shirt revealed the bold letters __**ER'S PE**__. There was a curious scar in the middle of his forehead that had the exact shape of a small lightning bolt … _

* * *

Severus willed himself to breathe evenly, but it wasn't easy. Yes, he had known who his soulmate was for a long time now. Yes, he had had ample time to get used to the fact that Harry Potter _was_ growing up to be the man he had dreamed and fantasized about ever since he had been as young as Harry was now. But to see one of his soulmate visions literally coming to life in front of him was mind-boggling just the same.

Severus remembered vividly the first day he had finally succeeded in drawing his future soulmate, a day long before Harry was born. Finally Severus had been able to see the hitherto nebulous James Potter-like figure he so desired clearly enough to have his pen give it his very own features, his very own shape, his very own clothes at last: The open and trusting gaze, the amused smile, the little snub nose, the curious scar on his forehead and … and the dark jumper underneath which the letters _"ER'S PE"_ were peaking through.

Suddenly, Harry looked directly at him. Holding Severus's eyes with his own, he brought his hands to his chest and – ever so slowly - pulled the jacket open and back over his shoulders. And although Harry's gaze was almost hypnotizing in its intensity, Severus's eyes were drawn to the slogan on Harry's chest. And – Merlin be damned! - he couldn't help it, he laughed out loud, not caring what the other students or teachers might think.

_That saucy, little minx!_

More than twenty years later, Severus finally found out that writing on his soulmate's t-shirt very boldly and very appropriately said …. **TEACHER'S PET**.

* * *

'I love fast food!' Neville Longbottom declared as he stepped out of the Burger King across King's Cross station. 'I want to _marry_ fast food!'

Hermione, who followed him out of the door, giggled. 'I suppose one of us should have warned you about calories.'

'Yes,' Harry chimed in, '_before_ you proposed to Whopper number five.'

Neville wasn't fazed. 'Calories, schmalories!' he called out, merrily waving his hands in front of Harry's face. His gentle brown eyes took on a wicked gleam and his lips curled into a smirk that looked alien on this particular face. 'Who cares, teacher's pet? It's not _my _waist I'm ruining after all.'

Harry smirked back.

'I bet Neville said the exact same thing when Madame Pomfrey offered to pepper him up with Brownies and whipped cream.'

Draco laughed. 'That's all right, the poor sod deserves some comfort food. I bet Severus alread paid me a visit in the infirmary!'

Harry shuddered. 'He'll be fuming when he finds out we nicked his emergency batch of Polyjuice.'

'Ah, but if Severus fumes, you'll find ways to apologize. Won't you, teacher's pet?' Draco leered suggestively until Harry kicked him in the shin.

'I'll tell Neville that you've been manhandling his body.' Draco promptly deadpanned and Harry couldn't help but snicker.

Hermione shook her head with a smile. 'Let's get going,' she said. 'The Dickens Museum should be open now.'

'Yes, let's!' Draco said, putting one arm around Hermione and the other around Harry. 'Time to show our own Oliver Twist here some culture.'

'Let's go!' Hermione nodded, hooking her free arm with Ron's.

'Yes!' Harry beamed. 'Let's go!'

_**To be continued …**_

_*******_

**Author's Note:**  
You can now follow me on Twitter (twitter[dot]com[slash]snapesfavorite),  
if you want to find out about future updates or to yell at me when same are taking too long. ;-)


	43. Dear Readers

Dear Readers,

First off, this is actually NOT a new chapter of ITWFY and I'm sorry that the update alert has lead you to falsely believe it would be, but I thought this would be the best and easiest way to reach as many of you as quickly as possible.

I have gotten tons of reviews and update requests these past few months and I replied to pretty much none of them, something for which I apologize from the bottom of my heart.

I know fanfiction[dot]net doesn't really allow posting author's notes by way of a new chapter, so I'm not sure how long this message can stay up here, but I hope it'll reach everyone who cares:

I know it's been many months since my last update (and I won't even start to get into the reasons why), but **THIS STORY WILL BE FINISHED**, I'll stick to that promise! I've started working on the new chapter and while I can't and don't want to promise you an actual update date, I can promise that it won't take another year. ;-)

Thank you all so very much for reading, for caring and for writing me. Even if I don't always reply these days, I read each and every one of your comments or e-mails and they all warm my heart. Your loyalty and support really mean the world to me and I can't thank you enough!

If you want to, you can follow me ("snapesfavorite") on Twitter or add me on Facebook (/snapesfavorite), I'd love to see you there.

A big hug and a *massive* apology for the long wait from

SnapesFavorite

*** * * * * **  
**EDITED ON MARCH 13, 2012: Obviously, I did not manage to keep my above promise (made in 2010 *ahem*) that it wouldn't take me over a year to update, but the rest is still true. It may look like it, but I have not abandoned this story and I still fully intent to finish it. Thank you for all your heartwarming reviews and comments, I wish I could give all of you a hug. :-)**


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